commensurate with the outrage, angrily shrieked.
'It's me, Shatov, my wife has come back to me and is now presently giving birth...'
'Well, let her! Away with you!'
'I've come for Arina Prokhorovna, I won't leave without Arina Prokhorovna!'
'She can't just go to everybody. Night practice is a separate thing ... Away with you to the Maksheev woman, and don't you dare make any more noise!' the irate female voice rattled on. One could hear Virginsky trying to stop her; but the old maid kept pushing him away and would not give in.
'I won't leave!' Shatov shouted again.
'Wait, wait!' Virginsky finally raised his voice, overpowering the maid. 'I beg you, Shatov, wait five minutes, I'll wake up Arina Prokhorovna, and please don't knock or shout... Oh, how terrible this all is!'
After five endless minutes, Arina Prokhorovna appeared.
'Your wife has come to you?' her voice issued from the vent window and, to Shatov's surprise, was not at all angry, merely peremptory as usual; but Arina Prokhorovna could not speak any other way.
'Yes, my wife, and she's in labor.'
'Marya Ignatievna?'
'Yes, Marya Ignatievna. Of course, Marya Ignatievna!'
Silence ensued. Shatov waited. There was whispering in the house.
'Did she come long ago?' Madame Virginsky asked again.
'Tonight, at eight o'clock. Please hurry.'
Again there was whispering and again an apparent discussion.
'Listen, you're not mistaken, are you? Did she send for me herself?'
'No, she didn't send for you, she wants a woman, a peasant woman, so as not to burden me with the expense, but don't worry, I'll pay.' 'All right, I'll come, pay or no pay. I've always thought highly of Marya Ignatievna's independent feelings, though she may not remember me. Do you have the most necessary things?' 'I have nothing, but I'll get it all, I will, I will...' 'So there's magnanimity in these people, too!' Shatov thought, as he headed for Lyamshin's. 'Convictions and the man—it seems they're two different things in many ways. Maybe in many ways I'm guilty before them! ... We're all guilty, we're all guilty, and ... if only we were all convinced of it! ...'
He did not have to knock long at Lyamshin's; surprisingly, the man instantly opened the window, having jumped out of bed barefoot, in his underwear, at the risk of catching cold—he who was so nervous and constantly worried about his health. But there was a particular reason for such sensitiveness and haste; Lyamshin had been trembling all night and was still so agitated that he could not sleep, as a consequence of the meeting of
He got so scared when he saw Shatov that he immediately slammed the window and ran for his bed. Shatov started knocking and shouting furiously.
'How dare you knock like that in the middle of the night?' Lyamshin, though sinking with fear, shouted threateningly, venturing to open the window again after a good two minutes and making sure finally that Shatov had come alone.
'Here's your revolver; take it back, give me fifteen roubles.' 'What, are you drunk? This is hooliganism; I'll simply catch cold. Wait, let me throw a plaid over me.'
'Give me fifteen roubles right now. If you don't, I'll knock and shout till dawn; I'll break your window.'
'And I'll shout for help and you'll be locked up.' 'And I'm mute, am I? Do you think I won't shout for help? Who should be more afraid of shouting for help, you or me?'
'How can you nurse such mean convictions ... I know what you're hinting at. . . Wait, wait, for God's sake, don't knock! Good heavens, who has money at night? What do you need money for, if you're not drunk?'
'My wife has come back to me. I've chopped off ten roubles for you, I never once fired it; take the revolver, take it this minute.'
Lyamshin mechanically reached his hand out the window and accepted the revolver; he waited a little, and all at once, quickly popping his head out the window, started babbling, as if forgetting himself, and with a chill in his spine:
'You're lying, your wife hasn't come back to you at all. It's... it's that you simply want to run away somewhere.'
'You're a fool, where am I going to run to? Let your Pyotr Verkhovensky run away, not me. I just left the midwife Virginsky, and she agreed at once to come to me. Ask her. My wife's in labor; I need money; give me money!'
A whole fireworks of ideas flashed in Lyamshin's shifty mind. Everything suddenly took a different turn, yet fear still prevented him from reasoning.
'But how... aren't you separated from your wife?'
'I'll smash your head in for such questions.'
'Ah, my God, forgive me, I understand, it's just that I was flabbergasted... But I understand, I understand. But... but—will Arina Prokhorovna really go? Didn't you just say she went? You know, that's not true. See, see, see, at every step you say things that aren't true.'
'She must be with my wife now, don't keep me, it's not my fault that you're so stupid.'
'That's not true, I'm not stupid. Excuse me, I really can't...'
