Thatsameeveningtherewasananimateddiscussionamongthesquadron'sofficersinDenisov'squarters.
"AndItellyou, Rostov, thatyoumustapologizetothecolonel!" saidatall, grizzly-hairedstaffcaptain, withenormousmustachesandmanywrinklesonhislargefeatures, toRostovwhowascrimsonwithexcitement.
Thestaffcaptain, Kirsten, hadtwicebeenreducedtotheranksforaffairsofhonorandhadtwiceregainedhiscommission.
"Iwillallownoonetocallmealiar!" criedRostov."HetoldmeIlied, , ormayplacemeunderarrest, butnoonecanmakemeapologize, becauseifhe, ascommanderofthisregiment, thinksitbeneathhisdignitytogivemesatisfaction, then..."
"Youjustwaitamoment, mydearfellow, andlisten," interruptedthestaffcaptaininhisdeepbass, calmlystrokinghislongmustache."Youtellthecolonelinthepresenceofotherofficersthatanofficerhasstolen..."
"I', 'swhyIjoinedthehussars, thinkingthathereonewouldnotneedfinesse; andhetellsmethatIamlying—solethimgivemesatisfaction..."
"That', butthat'?"
Denisovsatgloomilybitinghismustacheandlisteningtotheconversation, 'squestionbyadisapprovingshakeofhishead.
"Youspeaktothecolonelaboutthisnastybusinessbeforeotherofficers," continuedthestaffcaptain, "andBogdanich" (thecolonelwascalledBogdanich) "shutsyouup."
"Hedidnotshutmeup, hesaidIwastellinganuntruth."
"Well, haveitso, andyoutalkedalotofnonsensetohimandmustapologize."
"Notonanyaccount!" exclaimedRostov.
