“Did he never visit you unceremoniously at dinner again?” Tatiana Markovna asked Tiet Nikonich.
“No, you don’t like me to receive him, so I refuse him admission. He once came to me at night,” he went on, addressing Raisky. “He had been out hunting, and had eaten nothing for twenty-four hours. I gave him food, and we passed the time very pleasantly.”
“Pleasantly!” exclaimed Tatiana Markovna. “How can you say such things? If he came to me at that hour, I would settle him. No, Boris Pavlovich, live like other decent people. Stay with us, have dinner with us, go out with us, keep suspicious people at a distance, see how I administer your estate, and find fault if I do anything wrong.”
“That is so monotonous, Grandmother. Let us rather live each one after his own ideas and inclinations.”
“You are an exception,” sighed his aunt.
“No, Grandmother, it is you who are an exceptional woman. Why should we bother about one another.”
“To please your Grandmother.”
“Why don’t you want to please your Grandson? You are a despot, Grandmother.”
“A despot! Boris Pavlovich, I have waited anxiously for you, I have hardly slept, have tried to have everything as you liked it.”
“But you did all that because activity is a pleasure to you. All this care and trouble is a pleasant stimulant, keeps you busy. If Markushka came to you, you would receive him in the same fashion.”