se of
it? Your former betrothed would appear in the matter. For that I
should care less, though I must care, for she bears my name, but
I have daughters, and I have business--"

He was silent a while, then he finished:

"A scandal might injure my business, and most assuredly would
injure the future of my daughters; therefore I will neither
challenge you to a duel, nor will I direct my servants to thrash
you!"

A trembling shook Kranitski from head to foot, as if from the
effects of a blow; he straightened himself, he became manful, and
crushing in his hand the bank check which he had received, hurled
that paper bullet into Darvid's face so directly that it hit him
at the top of his bronze colored whiskers and fell to his feet.
Then with elastic movement, and with a grace which was
unconscious and uncommon, he turned toward the door and strode
out. Darvid remained alone. In that spacious, lofty chamber,
richly furnished, in the abundant light of a costly lamp, he
remained alone. Clasping his inclined head with both hands, he
squeezed it with his white, lean fingers, as with pincers. How
many vexations and troubles had met him here after an absence of
years! There was something greater still than even these
vexations and troubles. The coil of serpents rose in his breast
and crawled up to his very throat.

That was torture mixed with a feeling of unendurable disgust. But
Darvid avoided high-sounding phrases, and would never think or
say: torture, disgust. That was a manner of speaking for idlers
and poets. He, a man of iron industry, knew only the words
vexation, trouble. What is he to do now with that woman? Throw
her out like a beast which, bathed in milk and honey by its
owner, has bitten him to the blood? Impossible. His children,
especially his daughters, his business, his position, his
house--scandals are harmful in every way. So he must live on
under the same roof with her; meet the sight of her face, her
eyes--those eyes which on a time were for him--yes, it cannot be
otherwise.

He must endure that and master himself; master himself mightily,
so as not to let things reach a scene, or reproaches, or
explanation. Naturally, no scenes, disputes, or explanations.
For, first of all, what can they profit? Nothing save a useless
expense of energy, and he needs energy so much.

Besides, the very best punishment for that woman is unbroken
silence, which will raise between her and him an impenetrable
wall. From