On the following day my aunt ran into my study in a state of great excitement, and declared that she and her niece would leave my house if Mísha were to remain in it.
"Why so?"
"Why, we feel afraid of him…. He is not a man,—he is a wolf, a regular wolf. He stalks and stalks about, saying never a word, and has such a wild look…. He all but gnashes his teeth. My Kátya is such a nervous girl, as thou knowest…. She took a great interest in him the first day…. I am afraid for her and for myself…."
I did not know what reply to make to my aunt. But I could not expel
Mísha, whom I had invited in.
He himself extricated me from this dilemma.
That very day—before I had even left my study—I suddenly heard a dull and vicious voice behind me.
"Nikolái Nikoláitch, hey there, Nikolái Nikoláitch!"
I looked round. In the doorway stood Mísha, with a terrible, lowering, distorted visage.
"Nikolái Nikoláitch," he repeated … (it was no longer "dear uncle").
"What dost thou want?"