'Why, look here. About women, for instance. How you're always cracking them up! You're never tired of singing their praises! To listen to you, they're all angels.... Nice sort of angels!'
'I like and respect women, but———'
'Oh, of course, of course,' Avdey cut him short. 'I am not going to argue with you. That's quite beyond me! I'm a plain man.'
'I was going to say that... But why just to-day... just now,... are you talking about women?'
'Oh, nothing!' Avdey smiled with great meaning. 'Nothing!'
Kister looked searchingly at his friend. He imagined (simple heart!) that Masha had been treating him badly; had been torturing him, perhaps, as only women can....
'You are feeling hurt, my poor Avdey; tell me...'
Lutchkov went off into a chuckle.
'Oh, well, I don't fancy I've much to feel hurt about,' he said, in a drawling tone, complacently stroking his moustaches. 'No, only, look here, Fedya,' he went on with the manner of a preceptor, 'I was only going to point out that you're altogether out of it about women, my lad. You believe me, Fedya, they 're all alike. One's only got to take a little trouble, hang about them a bit, and you've got things
