"Send the servant away," I said. "It is difficult for me to speak when he is here."
The Archbishop looked at me, bit his lip and ordered:
"Go behind the door, Alexei. Well, what have you done?"
"I doubt God's mercy," I answered.
He put his hand on his forehead, looked at me for some time and then muttered in a singing voice: "What? What's that? You fool!"
There was no need to insult me, and perhaps he did not mean it in that way. Our superiors insult people more out of habit and foolishness than from ill will. I said to him:
"Hear me, your reverence."
I sat down on a chair. But the old man motioned with his hands and shouted:
"Stand up! Stand up! You should kneel before me, impious one!"
"Why should I kneel? If I am guilty, I should kneel before God, not before you."