"Yes, but why?" cried Lunev, in surprise.
"For this—You can't stand a quiet life. You're a good fellow, you've a good heart, there are a few like that—they live healthy lives, are never ill, and all of a sudden—bang!"
"What d'you mean?"
"They fall down dead."
Ilya laughed, straightened himself, stretched his strong muscles, and breathed out a deep breath.
"That's all rubbish," he said. But at night, as he sat by the samovar, Gratschev's words returned involuntarily, and he considered his business relations with the Avtonomovs. In his delight at their proposal to open a shop, he had agreed to everything that was suggested. Now, suddenly he perceived that, although he had put into the business about four hundred roubles of Poluektov's money, he was rather a manager, engaged by Tatiana Vlassyevna, than her partner. This discovery surprised and annoyed him. "Aha! that's why she kisses me, so as to pick my pocket more easily," he thought. He determined to use the rest of his money to get the business away from his mistress and then separate from her. Even earlier, Tatiana Vlassyevna had seemed to him unnecessary, and of late she had become a burden. He could not reconcile himself to her caresses, and once said to her face:
"You're absolutely shameless, Tanyka!"
She only laughed. As before, she constantly told him tales of the people of her circle, and once he remarked, doubtfully:
"If that's all true, Tatiana, your respectable life isn't good for much."
"Why, pray? It's very jolly!" she replied, and shrugged her pretty shoulders.