“Hang it all!” Lyamshin swore, and sitting down to the piano, began strumming a valse, banging on the keys almost with his fists, at random.
“I propose that those who want it to be a meeting should put up their right hands,” Madame Virginsky proposed.
Some put them up, others did not. Some held them up and then put them down again and then held them up again. “Foo! I don’t understand it at all,” one officer shouted. “I don’t either,” cried the other.
“Oh, I understand,” cried a third. “If it’s yes, you hold your hand up.”
“But what does ‘yes’ mean?”
“Means a meeting.”
“No, it means not a meeting.”
“I voted for a meeting,” cried the schoolboy to Madame Virginsky.
“Then why didn’t you hold up your hand?”
“I was looking at you. You didn’t hold up yours, so I didn’t hold up mine.”
“H
