You're living beyond your means."
"Don't tell me how to live!"
"No, let's have a serious talk.
I get two hundred roubles. . ."
"Gloom!"
"I don't take bribes, don't steal money, and don't know how to counterfeit it. . . ."
"Ghastly!"
Ernest Pavlovich dried up.
"The point is this," he said after a while; "we can't go on this way."
"Ho-ho!" said Ellochka, sitting down on the new chair.
"We will have to get a divorce."
"Just imagine!"
"We're not compatible.
I. . ."
"You're a fat and good-looking kid."
"How many times have I told you not to call me a kid."
"You're kidding!"
"And where did you get that idiotic jargon from?"
"Don't tell me how to live!"
"Oh, hell!" cried the engineer.
"You're being vulgar, Ernestula!"
"Let's get divorced peaceably."
"Oho!"
"You won't prove anything to me.
This argument. . ."
"I'll whack you like a babe."
"No, this is absolutely intolerable.
Your arguments cannot prevent me from taking the step forced upon me.
I'm going to get the removal van."
"You're kidding!"
"We'll divide up the furniture equally."
"Ghastly!"
"You'll get a hundred roubles a month.
Even a hundred and twenty.
The room will be yours.
Live how you like, I can't go on this way."
"Great!" said Ellochka with contempt.
"I'll move in with Ivan Alexeyvich."
"Oho!"
"He's gone to the country and left me his apartment for the summer.
I have the key. . . . Only there's no furniture."
"Ter-r-rific!"
Five minutes later Ernest Pavlovich came back with the caretaker.
"I'll leave the wardrobe. You need it more. But I'll have the desk, if you don't mind. And take this chair, caretaker.
I'll take one of the chairs.
I think I have the right to, don't I?"
Ernest Pavlovich gathered his things into a large bundle, wrapped his boots up in paper, and turned towards the door.
"You're all white at the back," said Ellochka in a phonographic voice.
"Good-bye, Ella."
He hoped that this time at least his wife would refrain from her usual metallic vocables.