In the street Zimin nudged his shoulder, and said not aloud but emphatically:
"I beg you not to come to my sister any more."
"Why? Did I offend you?" asked Yevsey.
"No, not in the least."
"Why, then?"
"Who are you?"
"A peddler."
"Then how do you know what I am, and that I am being followed?"
"An acquaintance told me."
"A spy?"