"Oh, do shut up! Understand that if we are overheard it will be the worse for us. Sh!... He is talking."
The old gentleman's cough did, in fact, seem to be over.
"I tell you what, my love," he wheezed in the most lachrymose chant, "I tell you what, my love ... khee-khee! Oh, what an affliction! Fedosey Ivanovitch said to me: 'You should try drinking yarrow tea,' he said to me; do you hear, my love?"
"Yes, dear."
"Yes, that was what he said, 'You should try drinking yarrow tea,' he said. I told him I had put on leeches. But he said, 'No, Alexandr Demyanovitch, yarrow tea is better, it's a laxative, I tell you' ... Khee-khee. Oh, dear! What do you think, my love? Khee! Oh, my God! Khee-khee! Had I better try yarrow tea?... Khee-khee-khee! Oh ... Khee!" and so on.
"I think it would be just as well to try that remedy," said his wife.
"Yes, it would be! 'You may be in consumption," he said. "Khee-khee! And I told him it was gout and irritability of the stomach ... Khee-khee! But he would have it that it might be consumption. What do you think ... khee-khee! What do you think, my love; is it consumption?"
"My goodness, what are you talking about?"
"Why, consumption! You had better undress and go to bed now, my love ... khee-khee! I've caught a cold in my head to-day."
"Ouf!" said Ivan Andreyitch. "For God's sake, do move a little."