“Begin.… I am transformed into one very large ear.”
“I have already mentioned to you my supposition that you are a psychopath. Now have the goodness to listen to the proofs.… I will speak quite frankly, perhaps sometimes sharply.… My words may jar on you, but don't be angry, friend.… You know my feelings for you: I like you better than anybody else in the district.… I speak not to reprove, nor to blame, nor to slay you. Let us both be objective, friend.… Let us examine your psyche with an unprejudiced eye, as if it were a liver or a stomach.…”
“All right, let's be objective,” I agreed.
“Excellent!… Then let us begin with your connexion with Kalinin.… If you consult your memory it will tell you that you began to visit the Kalinins immediately after your arrival in our God-protected district. Your acquaintance was not sought by them. At first you did not please the Justice of the Peace, owing to your arrogant manner, your sarcastic tone, and your friendship with the dissolute Count, and you would never have been in the Justice's house if you yourself had not paid him a visit. You remember? You became acquainted with Nadezhda Nikolaevna, and you began to frequent the Justice's house almost every day.… Whenever one came to the house you were sure to be there.… You were welcomed in the most cordial manner. You were shown all possible marks of friendship—by the father, the mother, and the little sister.… They became as much attached to you as if you were a relative.… They were enraptured by you … you were made much of, they were in fits of laughter over your slightest witticism.… You were for them the acme of wisdom, nobility, gentle manners. You appeared to understand all this, and you reciprocated their attachment with attachment—you went there every day, even on the eve of holidays—the days of cleaning and bustle. Lastly, the unhappy love that you aroused in Nadezhda's heart is no secret to you.… Is that not so? Well, then, you, knowing she was over head and ears in love with you, continued to go there day after day.… And what happened then, friend? A year ago, for no apparent reason, you suddenly ceased visiting the house. You were awaited for a week … a month.… They are still waiting for you, and you still don't appear … they write to you … you do not reply.… You end by not even bowing.… To you, who set so much store by decorum, such conduct must appear as the height of rudeness! Why did you break off your connexion with the Kalinins in such a sharp and off-hand manner? Did they offend you? No.… Did they bore you? In that case you might have broken off gradually, and not in such a sharp and insulting manner, for which there was no cause.…”
“I stopped visiting a house and therefore have become a psychopath!” I laughed. “How naive you are, Screwy! What difference is there if you suddenly cease an acquaintance or do so gradually? It's even more honest to do so suddenly—there's less hypocrisy in it. But what trifles all these are!”
“Let us admit that all this is trifling, or that the cause of your sharp action is a secret that does not concern other people. But how can you explain your further conduct?”
“For instance?”
“For instance, you appeared one day at a meeting of our Zemstvo Board—I don't know what your business was there—and in reply to the president, who asked you how it came that you were no longer to be met at Kalinin's, you said.… Try to remember what you said! ‘I'm afraid they want to marry me!’ That's what fell from your lips! And this you said during the meeting in a loud and distinct voice, so that all the hundred men who were present could hear you! Pretty? In reply to your words laughter and various offensive witticisms about fishing for husbands could be heard on all sides. Your words were caught up by a certain scamp, who went to Kalinin's and repeated them to Nadenka during dinner.… Why such an insult, Sergei Petrovich?”
Pavel Ivanovich barred the way. He stood before me and continued looking at me with imploring, almost tearful eyes.
“Why such an insult? Why? Because this charming girl loves you? Let us admit that her father, like all fathers, had intentions on your person.… He is like all fathers, they all have an eye on you, on me, on Markuzin.… All parents are alike!… There's not the slightest doubt that she is over head and ears in love; perhaps she had hoped she would become your wife.… Is that a reason to give her such a sounding box on the ear? Dyadinka, dyadinka![6] Was it not you yourself who encouraged these intentions on your person? You went there every day; ordinary guests never go so often. In the daytime you went out fishing with her, in the evening you walked about the garden with her, jealously guarding your tête-à-tête.… You learned that she loved you, and you made not the slightest change in your conduct.… Was it possible after that not to suspect you of having good intentions? I was convinced you would marry her! And you—you complained—you laughed! Why? What had she done to you?”