'It's about nobody, I didn't mean anybody. It's me myself...' the captain crumbled again.
'You seem to have been very offended by the way I spoke about you and your conduct? You are very irritable, Mr. Lebyadkin. Excuse me, but I haven't even begun to say anything about your conduct in its real aspect. I shall begin to talk about your conduct in its real aspect. I shall begin, that may very well be, but so far I haven't even begun in any
Lebyadkin gave a start and stared wildly at Pyotr Stepanovich.
'Pyotr Stepanovich, I am only now beginning to awaken!'
'Hm. And it's I who have awakened you?'
'Yes, it's you who have awakened me, and I've been sleeping for four years under a dark cloud. May I finally withdraw, Pyotr Stepanovich?'
'Now you may, unless Varvara Petrovna finds it necessary...'
But she waved him on his way.
The captain bowed, walked two steps towards the door, suddenly stopped, put his hand to his heart, was about to say something, did not say it, and quickly rushed out. But in the doorway he ran right into Nikolai Vsevolodovich; the latter stood aside; the captain somehow shrank before him and simply froze on the spot, without tearing his eyes from him, like a rabbit in front of a snake. Nikolai Vsevolodovich, having paused briefly, brushed him aside with his arm and walked into the drawing room.
VII
He was cheerful and calm. Perhaps something very nice had just happened to him, as yet unknown to us; but he seemed to be even especially pleased with something.
'Will you forgive me, Nicolas?' Varvara Petrovna could not help herself and rose hastily to meet him.
But Nicolas positively burst out laughing.
'Just as I thought!' he exclaimed good-naturedly and jokingly. 'I see you already know everything. And I, once I'd walked out of here, began thinking in the carriage: 'I ought at least to have told them the anecdote, it's not right to go off like this.' But then I remembered that you'd been left with Pyotr Stepanovich, and my care dropped away.'
As he spoke he looked cursorily around.
'Pyotr Stepanovich told us an old Petersburg story from the life of one whimsical fellow,' Varvara Petrovna rapturously joined in, 'one mad and capricious fellow, though always lofty in his feelings, always chivalrously noble...'
'Chivalrously? Can it have gone as far as that?' Nicolas laughed. 'Anyhow, this time I'm very grateful to Pyotr Stepanovich for his hastiness' (here he exchanged a momentary glance with him). 'Be it known to you, maman, that Pyotr Stepanovich is a universal peacemaker; that is his role, his disease, his hobbyhorse, and I especially recommend him to you on that point. I can guess what he dashed off for you here. He precisely dashes off when he talks; he's got an office in his head. Note that being a realist he cannot lie, and truth is dearer to him than success ... save, naturally, on those special occasions when success is dearer than truth.' (He kept looking around as he was saying this.) 'So you can clearly see, maman, that it is not you who should ask forgiveness of me, and if there is madness here anywhere, it is, of course, first of all on my part, and so, finally, I am crazy after all—just to keep up my local reputation...'
Here he embraced his mother tenderly.
'Anyhow, everything is said and done, and so we can finish with it,' he added, and some dry, hard little note sounded in his voice. Varvara Petrovna understood this note; yet her exaltation would not leave her, even quite the contrary.
'I really didn't expect you before another month, Nicolas!'
'I will of course explain everything to you, maman, but now...'
And he went towards Praskovya Ivanovna.
But she barely turned her head to him, stunned though she had been by his first appearance half an hour earlier. Now, however, she had some new trouble: from the very moment the captain had gone out and run into Nikolai Vsevolodovich in the doorway, Liza had suddenly begun to laugh—at first softly, fitfully, but then her laughter increased more and more, becoming louder and more obvious. She was flushed. The contrast with her recent gloomy look was extreme. While Nikolai Vsevolodovich was speaking with Varvara Petrovna, she beckoned a couple of times to Mavriky Nikolaevich, as if wishing to whisper something to him; but as soon as he bent down to her, she would dissolve in laughter; one might have concluded that she was laughing precisely at poor Mavriky Nikolaevich. However, she made a visible effort to restrain herself, and put her handkerchief to her lips. Nikolai Vsevolodovich, with a most innocent and guileless air, addressed her in greeting.
'Excuse me, please,' she answered in a patter, 'you... you have seen Mavriky Nikolaevich, of course... My God, Mavriky Nikolaevich, how inadmissibly tall you are!'
And again laughter. Mavriky Nikolaevich was indeed tall, but not inadmissibly so.
'Did you... arrive long ago?' she murmured, again restraining herself, even embarrassed, but with flashing eyes.
'A little over two hours ago,' Nicolas replied, studying her intently. I will observe that he was remarkably restrained and polite, but, politeness aside, he looked totally indifferent, even listless.
'And where will you be living?'
'Here.'
Varvara Petrovna was also watching Liza, but a thought suddenly struck her.
'And where have you been all this time, Nicolas, for more than two hours?' she ventured. 'The train comes at ten o'clock.'
'I first took Pyotr Stepanovich to Kirillov. And Pyotr Stepanovich I met at Matveevo' (three stations away), 'we
