"Olga Ivánovna."
"But what has she confessed?"
"Why do you dissimulate with me, Pável Afanásievitch? Surely, I 'm not a stranger to you."
"How am I dissimulating? I don't understand you, I don't understand you, positively I don't understand you. What could Olga Ivánovna confess?"
"What? You bore me! You know well what."
"May God slay me if ...."
"No, I will slay thee—if thou dost not marry her .... dost understand?"
"What!...." Pável Afanásievitch leaped to his feet, and stood before Vasíly.—"Olga Ivánovna .... you say ...."
"Thou 'rt clever, my good fellow, very clever, I must admit." Vasíly, with a smile, tapped him on the shoulder.—"In spite of the fact that thou art so mild of aspect ...."