Pod. No, madam; tell me first, will you think it strange?
Agàfia. I can’t. What is it?
Pod. But confess; I am sure what I am going to say will seem strange to you.
Agàfia. How is that possible? It is a pleasure to hear anything from you.
Pod. But you have never heard this thing from me. (Agàfia drops her eyes lower. Kochkaryòv enters softly, and stands behind Podkolyòssin.) It is about——But perhaps I had better tell you some other time.
Agàfia. What is it?
Pod. It is——It’s true, I wanted to explain to you now; but I still feel a little doubtful.
Koch. (folding his arms, aside). Oh! Gracious heavens! What a man! He’s an old woman’s flannel shoe, not a man. He’s a parody of a man, a burlesque of a man!
Agàfia. Why should you feel doubtful?
Pod. A sort of doubt keeps coming over me.