The thought that the new chief might not tender him a warm reception was the other unpleasant thing.

But Stepan Arkadyevitch instinctively felt that everything would _come round_ all right.

" They're all people, all men, like us poor sinners; why be nasty and quarrelsome?" he thought as he went into the hotel.

"Good-day, Vassily," he said, walking into the corridor with his hat cocked on one side, and addressing a footman he knew; "why, you've let your whiskers grow! Levin, number seven, eh? Take me up, please.

And find out whether Count Anitchkin" (this was the new head) "is receiving.