"We'll all die, some day—and after every one of us, the estates will go to the lawful heirs."
"Only not to the Bloodsucker! I'll throw it to the dogs, but he shan't have it."
The situation was turning out excellently. Pavel Vladimirych himself was leading the conversation. Arina Petrovna did not fail to take advantage of the opportunity.
"You ought to consider that, my friend," she said, as if by the way, not looking at her son and examining the color of her hands as if they were the main object of her interest.
"What do you mean by 'that'?"
"Well, I mean, if you don't wish that the estate should go to your brother."
The patient was silent. Only his eyes widened unnaturally and his face flushed more and more.
"And also, my friend, you ought to take into consideration the fact that you have orphaned nieces—and what sort of capital have they? Then there is your mother," continued Arina Petrovna.
"You've managed to give everything away to Yudushka!"
"Whatever may have happened, I know that I myself am to blame. But it wasn't such a crime after all. I thought 'he is my son.' At any rate, it isn't kind of you to remember that against your mother."