"Whom are you shouting at?" asked the offended Levin peevishly.
"At you, of course!"
Two glances were exchanged across the table which promised no good. Falk, whose temper improved directly he saw another man in a rage, poured a ladleful of the contents of the bowl on the schoolmaster's head, so that it trickled down his neck behind his collar.
"Don't dare to do that again!" threatened Levin.
"Who's to prevent me?"
"I! Yes, I! I shan't let you ruin his clothes. It's a beastly shame!"
"His clothes," laughed Falk. "Isn't it my coat? Didn't I give it to him?"
"You're going too far!" said Levin, rising to go.
"So you're going now! You've had enough to eat, you can't drink any more, you don't want me any longer to-night. Didn't you want to borrow a fiver? What? Am I to be deprived of the honour of lending you some money? Didn't you want me to sign something? Sign, eh?"
At the word sign, Levin pricked up his ears. Supposing he tried to get the better of him in his excited condition? The thought softened him.