Poor Kovalyov almost went out of his mind. He did not even know what to think of this strange occurrence. Indeed, how could a nose which as recently as yesterday had been on his face and could neither ride nor walk—how could it be in uniform? He ran after the carriage, which fortunately had not gone far but had stopped before the Kazan Cathedral.

He hurried into the cathedral, made his way past the ranks of old beggarwomen with bandaged faces and two slits for their eyes, whom he used to make such fun of, and went inside. There were but few worshippers there: they all stood by the entrance. Kovalyov felt so upset that he was in no condition to pray and searched with his eyes for the gentleman in all the church corners. At last he saw him standing to one side. The Nose had completely hidden his face in his big stand-up collar and was praying in an attitude of utmost piety.

“How am I to approach him?” thought Kovalyov. “From everything, from his uniform, from his hat, one can see that he is a state councillor. I’ll be damned if I know how to do it.”

He started clearing his throat, but the Nose never changed his devout attitude and continued his genuflections.

“My dear sir,” said Kovalyov, forcing himself to take courage, “my dear sir…”

“What is it you desire?” said the Nose turning round.

“It is strange, my dear sir … I think … you ought to know your place. And all of a sudden I find you—and where? In church. You’ll admit…”

“Excuse me, I cannot understand what you are talking about.… Make yourself clear.”

“How shall I explain to him?” thought Kovalyov and, emboldened, began: “Of course, I … however, I am a major. For me to go about without my nose, you’ll admit, is unbecoming. It’s all right for a peddler woman who sells peeled oranges on Voskresensky Bridge, to sit without a nose. But since I’m expecting—and besides, having many acquaintances among the ladies—Mrs. Chekhtaryova, a state councillor’s wife, and others… Judge for yourself… I don’t know, my dear sir…” (Here Major Kovalyov shrugged his shoulders.) “Forgive me, if one were to look at this in accordance with rules of duty and honor… you yourself can understand.…”

“I understand absolutely nothing,” replied the Nose. “Make yourself more clear.”

“My dear sir,” said Kovalyov with a sense of his own dignity, “I don’t know how to interpret your words… The whole thing seems to me quite obvious… Or do you wish… After all, you are my own nose!”—

The Nose looked at the major and slightly knitted his brows.

“You are mistaken, my dear sir, I exist in my own right. Besides, there can be no close relation between us. Judging by the buttons on your uniform, you must be employed in the Senate or at least in the Ministry of Justice. As for me, I am in the scholarly line.”

Having said this, the Nose turned away and went back to his prayers.

Kovalyov was utterly flabbergasted. He knew not what to do or even what to think. Just then he heard the pleasant rustle of a lady’s dress: an elderly lady, all in lace, had come up near him and with her, a slim one, in a white frock which agreeably outlined her slender figure, and in a straw-colored hat, light as a cream-puff. Behind them, a tall footman with huge sidewhiskers and a whole dozen collars, stopped and opened a snuff-box.

Kovalyov stepped closer, pulled out the cambric collar of his dress shirt, adjusted his seals hanging on a golden chain and, smiling in all directions, turned his attention to the ethereal young lady who, like a spring flower, bowed her head slightly and put her little white hand with its translucent fingers to her