Page 698 - the-idiot

‘Hadn’t you better—better—take a nap?’ murmured the
stupefied Ptitsin.
‘A nap?’ shrieked the general. ‘I am not drunk, sir; you in-
sult me! I see,’ he continued, rising, ‘I see that all are against
me here. Enough—I go; but know, sirs—know that—‘
He was not allowed to finish his sentence. Somebody
pushed him back into his chair, and begged him to be calm.
Nina Alexandrovna trembled, and cried quietly. Gania re-
tired to the window in disgust.
‘But what have I done? What is his grievance?’ asked Hip-
polyte, grinning.
‘What have you done, indeed?’ put in Nina Alexandrov-
na. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself, teasing an old
man like that— and in your position, too.’
‘And pray what IS my position, madame? I have the great-
est respect for you, personally; but—‘
‘He’s a little screw,’ cried the general; ‘he drills holes my
heart and soul. He wishes me to be a pervert to atheism.
Know, you young greenhorn, that I was covered with hon-
ours before ever you were born; and you are nothing better
than a wretched little worm, torn in two with coughing,
and dying slowly of your own malice and unbelief. What
did Gavrila bring you over here for? They’re all against me,
even to my own son—all against me.’
‘Oh, come—nonsense!’ cried Gania; ‘if you did not go
shaming us all over the town, things might be better for all
parties.’
‘What—shame you? I?—what do you mean, you young
calf? I shame you? I can only do you honour, sir; I cannot