"You have wounded him and me too. In future he will distrust me as well as others."
"What could I do, Lizaveta Mikhailovna? From my earliest youth I have never been able to see a German without feeling tempted to tease him."
"What are you saying, Vladimir Nikolaevich? This German is a poor, lonely, broken man; and you feel no pity for him! you feel tempted to tease him!"
Panshine seemed a little disconcerted.
"You are right, Lizaveta Mikhailovna," he said "The fault is entirely due to my perpetual thoughtlessness. No, do not contradict me. I know myself well. My thoughtlessness has done me no slight harm. It makes people suppose that I am an egotist."
Panshine made a brief pause. From whatever point he started a conversation, he generally ended by speaking about himself, and then his words seemed almost to escape from him involuntarily, so softly and pleasantly did he speak, and with such an air of sincerity.
"It is so, even in your house," he continued. "Your mamma, it is true, is most kind to me. She is so good. You—but no, I don't know what you think of me. But decidedly your aunt cannot abide me. I have vexed her by some thoughtless, stupid speech. It is true that she does not like me, is it not?"
"Yes," replied Liza, after a moment's hesitation. "You do not please her."
Panshine let his fingers run rapidly over the keys; a scarcely perceptible smile glided over his lips.
"Well, but you," he continued, "do you also think me an egotist?".