His father, long ago, before Sashka was born, had been tutor at the Svetchnikovs',
and had ever since looked on them as the best people in the world. At that time
he had held also an appointment in the statistical office of the Zemstvo, and had
not yet taken to drink. Eventually he was compelled through his own fault to marry
his landlady's daughter. From that time he severed his connection with the Svetchnikovs,
and took to drink. Indeed, he let himself go to such an extent, that he was several times
picked up drunk in the streets and taken to the police station. But the Svetchnikovs did not
cease to assist him with money, and Feoktista Petrovna, although she hated them, together
with books and everything connected with her husband's past, still valued their acquaintance,
and was in the habit of boasting of it.
"Perhaps you might bring something for me too from the Christmas tree," continued his father.
He was using craft to induce his son to go, and Sashka knew it, and despised his father for
his weakness and want of straightforwardness; though he really did wish to bring back something
for the poor sickly old man, who had for a long time been without even good tobacco.
"All right!" he blurted out; "give me my jacket. Have you put the buttons on? No fear! I know
you too well!"