The merchant Golushkin, with whom it was necessary to acquaint Nejdanov, was the son of a wealthy merchant in drugs, an Old Believer, of the Thedosian sect.He had not increased the fortune left to him by his father, being, as the saying goes, a joneur, an Epicurean in the Russian fashion, with absolutely no business abilities.He was a man of forty, rather stout and ugly, pock-marked, with small eyes like a pig's.He spoke hurriedly, swallowing his words as it were, gesticulated with his hands, threw his legs about and went into roars of laughter at everything.On the whole, he gave one the impression of being a stupid, spoiled, conceited bounder.He considered himself a man of culture because he dressed in the German fashion, kept an open house (though it was not overly clean), frequented the theatre, and had many protegees among variety actresses, with whom he conversed in some extraordinary jargon meant to be French.His principal passion was a thirst for popularity."Let the name of Golushkin thunder through the world! As once Suvorov or Potyomkin, then why not now Kapiton Golushkin?" It was this very passion, conquering even his innate meanness, which had thrown him, as he himself expressed it not without a touch of pride, "into the arms of the opposition" (formerly he used to say "position," but had learned better since then) and brought him in contact with the nihilists.He gave expression to the most extreme views, scoffed at his own Old Believer's faith, ate meat in Lent, played cards, and drank champagne like water.He never got into difficulties, because he said, "Wherever necessary, Ihave bribed the authorities.All holes are stitched up, all mouths are closed, all ears are stopped."He was a widower without children.His sister's sons fawned around him continuously, but he called them a lot of ignorant louts, barbarians, and would hardly look at them.He lived in a large, stone house, kept in rather a slovenly manner.Some of the rooms were furnished with foreign furniture, others contained nothing but a few painted wooden chairs and a couch covered with American cloth.There were pictures everywhere of an indifferent variety.Fiery landscapes, purple seascapes, fat naked women with pink-coloured knees and elbows, and "The Kiss" by Moller.In spite of the fact that Golushkin had no family, there were a great many menials and hangers-on collected under his roof.He did not receive them from any feeling of generosity, but simply from a desire to be popular and to have someone at his beck and call."My clients," he used to say when he wished to throw dust in one's eyes.He read very little, but had an excellent memory for learned expressions.
The young people found Golushkin in his study, where he was sitting comfortably wrapped up in a long dressing-gown, with a cigar between his lips, pretending to be reading a newspaper.On their entrance he jumped up, rushed up to them, went red in the face, shouted for some refreshments to be brought quickly, asked them some questions, laughed for no reason in particular, and all this in one breath.He knew Markelov and Solomin, but had not yet met Nejdanov.On hearing that the latter was a student, he broke into another laugh, pressed his hand a second time, exclaiming:
