True, at another time he would have borne something much more offensive than the news about the total non-existence of Kapiton Eropegov, would have shouted a little, started a scandal, lost his temper, but all the same in the end he would have withdrawn to his room upstairs and gone to bed.
But now, owing to the extraordinary strangeness of the human heart, it so happened that precisely such an offense as the doubt of Eropegov made the cup run over.
The old man turned purple, raised his arms, and shouted:
"Enough!
My curse . . . away from this house!
Nikolai, bring my bag, I'm going . . . away!"
He went out, hurrying and in extreme wrath.
Nina Alexandrovna, Kolya, and Ptitsyn rushed after him.
"Well, what have you done now!" Varya said to her brother. "He may drag himself there again.
Ah, what shame, what shame!"
"So don't go stealing!" Ganya cried, all but choking with spite; suddenly his glance met with Ippolit; Ganya almost began to shake.
"And you, my dear sir," he cried, "ought to remember that you are not, after all, in your own house and ... are enjoying hospitality, instead of vexing an old man who has obviously lost his mind ..."
Ippolit also seemed to wince, but he immediately checked himself.
"I don't quite agree with you that your father has lost his mind," he replied calmly. "It seems to me, on the contrary, that his mind has been working much better lately, by God; don't you believe so?
He has become so cautious, suspicious, keeps asking questions, weighs every word . . . He started talking with me about that Kapitoshka with some aim; imagine, he wanted to suggest to me . . ."
"Eh, the devil I care what he wanted to suggest to you!
I ask you, sir, not to be clever and try to dodge with me!" Ganya shrieked. "If you also know the real reason why the old man is in such a state (and you've been spying so much in these five days here that you surely do know it), then you ought never to have vexed . . . the unfortunate man and tormented my mother by exaggerating the affair, because the whole affair is nonsense, just a drunken incident, nothing more, not even proved in any way, and I don't care a whit about it . . . But you have to go taunting and spying, because you're . . . you're . . ."
"A screw," Ippolit grinned.
"Because you're trash, you tormented people for half an hour, thinking you'd frighten them that you were going to shoot yourself with your unloaded pistol, with which you bungled it so shamefully, you failed suicide, you . . . walking bile.
I showed you hospitality, you've grown fatter, stopped coughing, and you repay me . . ."
"Just a couple of words, if you please, sir; I am staying with Varvara Ardalionovna, not with you; you have not offered me any hospitality, and I even think that you yourself are enjoying the hospitality of Mr. Ptitsyn.
Four days ago I asked my mother to find lodgings for me in Pavlovsk and to move here herself, because I actually do feel better here, though I haven't grown fatter and I still cough.
Yesterday evening my mother informed me that the apartment is ready, and I hasten to inform you for my part that, after thanking your dear mother and sister, I will move to my own place today, as I already decided to do last evening.
Excuse me, I interrupted you; it seems you had much more to say."
"Oh, in that case . . ." Ganya began to tremble.
"But in that case, allow me to sit down," Ippolit added, sitting down most calmly on the chair that the general had been sitting on. "I am ill after all; well, now I'm ready to listen to you, the more so as this is our last conversation and perhaps even our last meeting."
Ganya suddenly felt ashamed.
"Believe me, I shall not lower myself to squaring accounts with you," he said, "and if you . . ."
"You needn't be so supercilious," Ippolit interrupted. "For my part, on the first day I moved here I promised myself not to deny myself the pleasure of speaking my mind to you as we said goodbye, and that in the most frank way.
I intend to do so precisely now—after you, naturally."
"And I ask you to leave this room."
"Better speak, you'll regret not saying everything."
"Stop it, Ippolit! All this is terribly shameful. Be so good as to stop!" said Varya.
"Only for a lady," Ippolit laughed, standing up.
"If you please, Varvara Ardalionovna, I'm prepared to make it shorter for you, but only shorter, because some explanation between your brother and me has become quite necessary, and not for anything will I go away and leave any perplexity behind."
"You're quite simply a gossip," Ganya cried out, "that's why you won't leave without gossiping."
"There, you see," Ippolit observed coolly, "you've already lost control of yourself.
You really will regret not saying everything.
Once more I yield the floor to you.
I shall wait."
Gavrila Ardalionovich was silent and looked at him contemptuously.
"You don't want to?
You intend to stand firm—as you will.
For my part, I shall be as brief as possible.
Two or three times today I have listened to a reproach about hospitality; that is unfair.
In inviting me to stay with you, you wanted to catch me in your nets; you calculated that I wanted to be revenged on the prince.
Moreover, you heard that Aglaya Ivanovna had shown concern for me and was reading my 'Confession.'
Calculating, for some reason, that I would surrender myself entirely to your interests, you may have hoped to find some support in me.
I shall not go into detail!
Nor do I demand any acknowledgment or recognition on your part; suffice it that I leave you with your own conscience and that we now understand each other perfectly."