"Well, if I say no, then stay here! It is not a stranger who says so. It's your uncle, and you may as well take your own uncle's advice. Oh, my friend! It's a good thing you've got an uncle. At least there is somebody to feel with you and to warn you when necessary. Think of others who have nobody. Nobody to feel with them, nobody to warn them. And they live all by themselves. And things happen to them—many things that happen in life, my dear."
Anninka wanted to reply, but realized it would be adding fuel to the fire, and remained silent. She sat there, her eyes turned despairingly at her uncle, who was going ahead under full steam.
"I wanted to tell you," Yudushka continued, "I don't like your going to those fairs, no, I don't like it a bit. Though you didn't relish my talking about guitars, I still must say—"
"But it is not enough to say 'I don't like.' Show me a way out."
"Stay with me. That's the way out."
"No, that never!"
"Why?"
"Because I have nothing to do here. What can I do here? Get up in the morning, have tea, at tea think that breakfast is coming, at breakfast think about dinner, and at dinner about afternoon tea. Then supper and then to sleep. No, one can die here."
"They all do it, my friend. First people have tea, after tea those who like to breakfast do so. I, for instance, don't like to have breakfast, so I don't. Then dinner, then afternoon tea, then to bed. Well, I don't see anything ridiculous or objectionable in it. But if I—"
"Nothing objectionable; but it is not after my heart."