Page 612 - the-idiot
P. 612

‘Well, what then? Did you suppose it wasn’t going to rise?’
       asked Ferdishenko.
         ‘It’s going to be atrociously hot again all day,’ said Gania,
       with an air of annoyance, taking his hat. ‘A month of this...
       Are you coming home, Ptitsin?’ Hippolyte listened to this
       in amazement, almost amounting to stupefaction. Sudden-
       ly he became deadly pale and shuddered.
         ‘You manage your composure too awkwardly. I see you
       wish to insult me,’ he cried to Gania. ‘You—you are a cur!’
       He looked at Gania with an expression of malice.
         ‘What on earth is the matter with the boy? What phe-
       nomenal feeble-mindedness!’ exclaimed Ferdishenko.
         ‘Oh, he’s simply a fool,’ said Gania.
          Hippolyte braced himself up a little.
         ‘I understand, gentlemen,’ he began, trembling as before,
       and stumbling over every word,’ that I have deserved your
       resentment, and—and am sorry that I should have troubled
       you with this raving nonsense’ (pointing to his article),’or
       rather, I am sorry that I have not troubled you enough.’ He
       smiled feebly. ‘Have I troubled you, Evgenie Pavlovitch?’ He
       suddenly  turned  on  Evgenie  with  this  question.  ‘Tell  me
       now, have I troubled you or not?’
         ‘Well, it was a little drawn out, perhaps; but—‘
         ‘Come, speak out! Don’t lie, for once in your life—speak
       out!’ continued Hippolyte, quivering with agitation.
         ‘Oh, my good sir, I assure you it’s entirely the same to me.
       Please leave me in peace,’ said Evgenie, angrily, turning his
       back on him.
         ‘Good-night, prince,’ said Ptitsin, approaching his host.

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