"I have done my duty," said Pilgrim again.
"And cheaply, too, at the expense of a couple of fair words. A bushel of them would not cost much. I would buy at that rate."
"This is my first and last request to you."
"And this is my first and last refusal to you."
"Good morning, Mr. Lenz!"
"The same to you, Mr. Pilgrim."
At the door Pilgrim turned, his face crimson and his eyes flashing. "Mr. Lenz, do you know what you are doing?"
"I generally know pretty well what I am doing."
"You are absolutely turning me out of your house."
"Indeed!" said Petrovitsch with an ugly smile; but his eyes fell before the look of mingled pain and defiance in Pilgrim's face. "Mr. Lenz," continued the young man, "from you I bear everything. There lives not a man within sight of a hedge or a tree that can yield a stick, who can boast of having insulted Pilgrim with impunity. You can: and do you know the reason? Because I am willing to bear insults in my friend's cause. Unhappily it is all I can do for him. No angry word shall you hear from me that you can use as a pretext for not helping my friend. For his sake I gladly suffer insults. Tell all the world, if you will, that you have turned me out of your house."