y
Borisovitch, in his long coat that reached below his knees, with
his red face and unkempt hair, walked up and down the room with his
hands in his pockets, pacing, not from corner to corner, but backwards
and forwards at random, like a wild beast in its cage. He would
stand still by the table, sip his glass of tea with relish, and
pace about again, lost in thought.

"Laptev made me an offer to-day," said Yulia Sergeyevna, and she
flushed crimson.

The doctor looked at her and did not seem to understand.

"Laptev?" he queried. "Panaurov's brother-in-law?"

He was fond of his daughter; it was most likely that she would
sooner or later be married, and leave him, but he tried not to think
about that. He was afraid of being alone, and for some reason
fancied, that if he were left alone in that great house, he would
have an apoplectic stroke, but he did not like to speak of this
directly.

"Well, I'm delighted to hear it," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"I congratulate you with all my heart. It offers you a splendid
opportunity for leaving me, to your great satisfaction. And I quite
understand your feelings. To live with an old father, an invalid,
half crazy, must be very irksome at your age. I quite understand
you. And the sooner I'm laid out and in the devil's clutches, the
better every one will be pleased. I congratulate you with all my
heart."

"I refused him."

The doctor felt relieved, but he was unable to stop himself and
went on:

"I wonder, I've long wondered, why I've not yet been put into a
madhouse--why I'm still wearing this coat instead of a strait-waistcoat?
I still have faith in justice, in goodness. I am a fool, an idealist,
and nowadays that's insanity, isn't it? And how do they repay me
for my honesty? They almost throw stones at me and ride rough-shod
over me. And even my nearest kith and kin do nothing but try to get
the better of me. It's high time the devil fetched an old fool like
me. . . ."

"There's no talking to you like a rational being!" said Yulia.

She got up from the table impulsively, and went to her room in great
wrath, remembering how often her father had been unjust to her. But
a little while afterwards she felt sorry for her father, too, and
when he was going to the club she went downstairs with him, and
shut the door after him. It was a rough and stormy night; the door
shook with the violence of the wind, and there were draughts in all
directions in the passage, so tha