Pnin

his friend and patted him on his knobby knee.
    'You are a wonderful romantic, Timofey, and under happier circumstances... However, I can tell you that in the Spring Term we are going to do something unusual. We are going to stage a Dramatic Programme - scenes from Kotzebue to Hauptmann. I see it as a sort of apotheosis.... But let us not anticipate. I, too, am a romantic, Timofey, and therefore cannot work with people like Bodo, as our trustees wish me to do. Kraft is retiring at Seaboard, and it has been offered to me that I replace him, beginning next fall.'
    'I congratulate you,' said Pnin warmly.
    'Thanks, my friend. It is certainly a very fine and prominent position. I shall apply to a wider field of scholarship and administration the invaluable experience I have gained here. Of course, since I know Bodo will not continue you in the German Department, my first move was to suggest you come with me, but they tell me they have enough Slavists at Seaboard without you. So I spoke to Blorenge, but the French Department here is also full up. This is unfortunate, because Waindell feels that it would be too much of a financial burden to pay you for two or three Russian courses that have ceased to attract students. Political trends in America, as we all know, discourage interest in things Russian. On the other hand, you'll be glad to know that the English Department is inviting one of your most brilliant compatriots, a really fascinating lecturer - I have heard him once; I think he's an old friend of yours.'
    Pnin cleared his throat and asked:
    'It signifies that they are firing me?'
    'Now, don't take it too hard, Timofey. I'm sure your old friend -'
    'Who is old friend?' queried Pnin, slitting his eyes.
    Hagen named the fascinating lecturer.
    Leaning forward, his elbows propped on his knees, clasping and unclasping his hands, Pnin said:
    'Yes, I know him thirty years or more. We are friends, but there is one thing perfectly certain. I will never work under him.'
    'Well, I guess you should sleep on it. Perhaps some solution may be found. Anyway, we'll have ample opportunity to discuss these matters. We shall just go on teaching, you and I, as if nothing had happened, nicht wahr? We must be brave, Timofey!'
    'So they have fired me,' said Pnin, clasping his hands and nodding his head.
    'Yes we are in the same boat, in the same boat,' said jovial Hagen, and he stood up. It was getting very late.
    'I go now,' said Hagen, who, though a lesser addict of the present tense than Pnin, also held it in favour. 'It has been a wonderful party, and I would never have allowed myself to spoil the merriment if our mutual friend had not informed me of your optimistic intentions. Good night. Oh, by the way... Naturally, you will get your salary for the Fall Term in full, and then we shall see how much we can obtain for you in the Spring Term, especially if you will agree to take off some stupid office work from my poor old shoulders, and also if you will participate vitally in the Dramatic Programme in New Hall. I think you should actually play in it, under my daughter's direction; it would distract you from sad thoughts. Now go to bed at once, and put yourself to sleep with a good mystery story.'
    On the porch he pumped Pnin's unresponsive hand with enough vigour for two. Then he flourished his cane and merrily marched down the wooden steps.
    The screen door banged behind him.
    'Der arme Kerl,' muttered kind-hearted Hagen to himself as he walked homeward. 'At least, I have sweetened the pill.'

13
    From the sideboard and dining-room table Pnin removed to the kitchen sink the used china and silverware. He put away what food remained into the bright Arctic light of the refrigerator. The ham and tongue had all gone, and so had the little sausages; but the vinaigrette had not been a success, and enough caviare and meat tarts were left over for a meal or two tomorrow. 'Boom-boom-boom,' said the china closet as he passed by. He surveyed the living-room and started to tidy it up. A last drop of Pnin's Punch glistened in its beautiful bowl Joan had crooked a lipstick-stained cigarette butt in her saucer; Betty had left no trace and had taken all the glasses back to the kitchen. Mrs Thayer had forgotten a booklet of pretty multi-coloured matches on her plate, next to a bit of nougat. Mr Thayer had twisted into all kinds of weird shapes half a dozen paper napkins; Hagen had quenched a messy cigar in an uneaten bunchlet of grapes.
    In the kitchen,