Akaky Akakievich, the hero of Nikolai Gogol's The Overcoat, accompanied me to the bus station in the city center. (He actually followed me; I didn't welcome his company.) He gave me a broken look as I boarded the bus. I felt I had been harsh with him when we had chatted in the café a few moments earlier, but I didn't regret it. From the beginning of our meeting, Akakievich had realized that I preferred Jonathan Noel, the hero of Patrick Süskind's The Dove. But he didn't pay much attention, and it seemed to me he hadn't even recognized the person I was favoring. "At least Jonathan has some dignity!" I said, unnecessarily angry. I noticed the harshness in my expression. Akakievich lowered his head in a vaguely broken tone. After a while, he tried to speak, but stammered. He spoke indistinctly. He spoke with his usual slurred speech. I paid him no attention, for I was angry with him for some unknown reason, and turned my face toward the café's glass window. When I got up and paid the bill, he followed me and started walking behind me, a few steps behind.
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