We'd better drop it, really, we'd better; at least you had the intention ... I will never leave you, not for anything; another man would flee from such a sister at least—see how she's looking at me now!
Let's leave it at that!
I was already rejoicing so . . . And how do you know I'm deceiving Nastasya Filippovna?
But, as for Varya, it's as she wishes and—enough!
Well, now it's quite enough!"
Ganya was getting more and more excited with every word and paced the room aimlessly.
Such conversations instantly became a sore spot in all members of the family.
"I said, if she comes in here, then I go out of here—and I'll also keep my word," said Varya.
"Out of stubbornness!" cried Ganya.
"And it's out of stubbornness that you don't get married!
What are you doing snorting at me!
I spit on it all, Varvara Ardalionovna; if you like, you can carry out your intention right now.
I'm quite sick of you.
So! You've finally decided to leave us, Prince!" he shouted at the prince, seeing him get up from his place.
In Ganya's voice that degree of irritation could be heard in which a man almost enjoys his irritation, gives himself over to it without restraint and almost with increasing pleasure, whatever may come of it.
The prince turned around at the door in order to make some reply, but, seeing from the pained expression on his offender's face that with one more drop the vessel would overflow, he turned again and silently went out.
A few minutes later he heard, by the noises coming from the drawing room, that in his absence the conversation had become more noisy and frank.
He went through the large room to the front hall, in order to get to the corridor and from there to his room.
Passing by the door to the stairs, he heard and saw that someone outside the door was trying very hard to ring the bell; but something must have been wrong with the bell: it only jiggled slightly but made no sound.
The prince lifted the bar, opened the door, and—stepped back in amazement, even shuddered all over: before him stood Nastasya Filippovna.
He recognized her at once from the portrait.
Her eyes flashed with a burst of vexation when she saw him; she quickly came into the front hall, pushed him aside with her shoulder, and said wrathfully, flinging off her fur coat:
"If you're too lazy to fix the doorbell, you should at least be sitting in the front hall when people knock.
Well, there, now he's dropped my coat, the oaf!"
The coat was indeed lying on the floor; Nastasya Filippovna, not waiting for the prince to help her out of it, had flung it off into his arms without looking, but the prince had not managed to catch it.
"You ought to be dismissed.
Go and announce me."
The prince wanted to say something, but he was so much at a loss that nothing came out, and, holding the coat, which he had picked up from the floor, he went towards the drawing room.
"Well, so now he goes with the coat!
Why are you taking the coat?
Ha, ha, ha!
Are you crazy or something?"
The prince came back and stood like a stone idol looking at her; when she laughed, he also smiled, but he was still unable to move his tongue.
In the first moment, as he opened the door for her, he was pale; now color suddenly suffused his face.
"Ah, what an idiot!" Nastasya Filippovna cried indignantly, stamping her foot at him.
"Well, what are you doing?
Who are you going to announce?"
"Nastasya Filippovna," murmured the prince.
"How do you know me?" she asked quickly. "I've never seen you before!
Go and announce . . . What's that shouting?"
"They're quarreling," the prince replied and went to the drawing room.
He came in at a rather decisive moment: Nina Alexandrovna was ready to forget entirely that she was "resigned to everything"; she was, however, defending Varya.
Ptitsyn, too, was standing beside Varya, having abandoned his scribbled-over paper.
Varya herself was not intimidated, nor was she the timid sort; but her brother's rudeness was becoming more and more impolite and insufferable.
On such occasions she usually stopped talking and merely looked at her brother silently, mockingly, not taking her eyes off him.
This maneuver, as she knew, was apt to drive him to the utmost limits.
At that very moment the prince stepped into the room and said loudly:
"Nastasya Filippovna!"
IX
A general hush fell: everyone looked at the prince as if they did not understand him and—did not wish to understand.