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"Now let me tell you my story," he began, "I came to you, you

were asleep. Then we had dinner and then I went to Porfiry's,

Zametov was still with him. I tried to begin, but it was no use.

I couldn't speak in the right way. They don't seem to understand

and can't understand, but are not a bit ashamed. I drew Porfiry

to the window, and began talking to him, but it was still no use.

He looked away and I looked away. At last I shook my fist in his

ugly face, and told him as a cousin I'd brain him. He merely

looked at me, I cursed and came away. That was all. It was very

stupid. To Zametov I didn't say a word. But, you see, I thought

I'd made a mess of it, but as I went downstairs a brilliant idea

struck me: why should we trouble? Of course if you were in any

danger or anything, but why need you care? You needn't care a

hang for them. We shall have a laugh at them afterwards, and if I

were in your place I'd mystify them more than ever. How ashamed

they'll be afterwards! Hang them!