"That's fine," answered Ulita, but her voice expressed such deep comprehension that Yudushka involuntarily raised his eyes.
She stood before him in her usual pose, one hand upon her breast, the other supporting her chin. But her face sparkled with suppressed laughter. Yudushka shook his head in sign of Christian reproach.
"I suppose God bestowed His grace upon you," continued Ulita, unperturbed by his gesture of warning.
"You always blaspheme," Yudushka blustered. "How many times have I warned you with kindness, and you are the same as ever. Yours is an evil tongue, a malicious tongue."
"It seems to me I haven't said anything. Generally when people have prayed to God, it means that God's grace is visited upon them."
"That's just it—'it seems!' But why do you prate about all that 'seems' to you? Why don't you learn how to hold your tongue when necessary? I am talking business and she—'it seems to me!'"
Instead of replying Ulita shifted from one foot to the other, as if to indicate that she knew everything Porfiry Vladimirych had to tell her by heart.
"Listen to me, you!" Yudushka began. "I prayed to the Lord all day yesterday, and to-day too, and—look at it from whatever angle you wish—we've got to provide for Volodka."
"Of course, you've got to provide for him. He is not a puppy, I dare say. You can't throw him into a pond."
"Wait a while! Let me say a word. You plague. So this is what I say. Take it any way you please, we've got to provide for Volodka. First, we must do it out of consideration for Yevpraksia and then we've got to make a man of him."