"A plague on your tongue!" cried Goudayevsky. "Shut up, you wicked fool."
"Oh, you tyrant!" screamed Julia, and running up to her husband hit him with her fist on the back and ran impetuously out of the drawing-room.
Goudayevsky clenched his fists and ran up to Peredonov.
"So you've come to raise a riot here!" he cried. "You say Antosha's mischievous? You're a liar. He's not mischievous. And if he were, I should know it without you; and I don't want anything to do with you. You go about the town taking in fools. You beat their little boys, and expect to get a Master's diploma for birching. But you've come to the wrong place. Sir, I ask you to clear out!"
As he was saying this he jumped towards Peredonov and got him into a corner. Peredonov was frightened and would have been glad to run away, but Goudayevsky in his excitement did not notice that he was standing in his way. Antosha seized hold of the tails of his father's frock-coat and began to tug at them. His father angrily turned on him and tried to kick him. But Antosha quickly jumped aside without, however, letting go of his father's coat.
"Be quiet there," exclaimed Goudayevsky. "Don't forget yourself, Antosha."
"Papotchka," cried Antosha, continuing to tug at his father's coat-tails, "you are keeping Ardalyon Borisitch from going."
Goudayevsky quickly jumped to the side, Antosha barely managed to escape him.
"I beg your pardon," said Goudayevsky and pointed to the door, "that's the way out, and I won't detain you."
Peredonov quickly left the room. Goudayevsky put his fingers to his nose at him, then made a motion with his knee as if he were kicking him out. Antosha sniggered. Goudayevsky turned on him savagely: