for a full minute with an importunate and expectant smile.
"Why do you give me no answer to my little question?" he brought out at last, with evident anxiety.
"What little question?"
"Why, the pleasant surprise for a husband on opening that box."
"Oh! what is it to do with me!" exclaimed Velchaninov, with a gesture of disgust, and he got up and walked about the room
"And I bet you're thinking now, you're a swine to have shown me your shame. He—he! You're a very fastidious man . . . you are."
"I think nothing about it. On the contrary, you are so much exasperated by the death of the man who wronged you and you've drunk so much wine, too. I see nothing extraordinary in all this; I quite understand why you wanted Bagautov alive, and I am ready to respect your annoyance: but———"
"And what did I want Bagautov for, do you suppose?"
"That's your affair."
"I bet that you were thinking of a duel!"
"Damn it all!" cried Velchaninov, growing more and more unable to control himself. "I imagine that a decent man . . . in such cases does not stoop to ridiculous babble, to stupid antics, to ludicrous complaints and disgusting insinuations, by which he only degrades himself more, but acts openly, directly, straightforwardly—like a decent man?"
"He—he! but perhaps I'm not a decent man!"
"That's your affair again . . . but in that case, what the devil did you want Bagautov alive for?"
"Why, if only to see a friend. We'd have had a bottle and drunk together."
"He wouldn't have drunk with you."
"Why not? Noblesse oblige! Here, you're drinking with me; in what way is he better than you?"
"I haven’t drunk with you."
"Why such pride all of a sudden?"
Velchaninov suddenly broke into a nervous and irritable laugh.
"Damnation! Why, you are really a 'predatory type'! I thought you were only 'the eternal husband,' and nothing more!"
