icle aloud.

Yet all the others were similarly affected. The girls were uncomfortable
and ashamed. Lizabetha Prokofievna restrained her violent anger by a
great effort; perhaps she bitterly regretted her interference in the
matter; for the present she kept silence. The prince felt as very shy
people often do in such a case; he was so ashamed of the conduct of
other people, so humiliated for his guests, that he dared not look them
in the face. Ptitsin, Varia, Gania, and Lebedeff himself, all looked
rather confused. Stranger still, Hippolyte and the "son of Pavlicheff"
also seemed slightly surprised, and Lebedeff's nephew was obviously
far from pleased. The boxer alone was perfectly calm; he twisted his
moustaches with affected dignity, and if his eyes were cast down it was
certainly not in confusion, but rather in noble modesty, as if he did
not wish to be insolent in his triumph. It was evident that he was
delighted with the article.

"The devil knows what it means," growled Ivan Fedorovitch, under his
breath; "it must have taken the united wits of fifty footmen to write
it."

"May I ask your reason for such an insulting supposition, sir?" said
Hippolyte, trembling with rage.

"You will admit yourself, general, that for an honourable man, if the
author is an honourable man, that is an--an insult," growled the boxer
suddenly, with convulsive jerkings of his shoulders.

"In the first place, it is not for you to address me as 'sir,' and,
in the second place, I refuse to give you any explanation," said Ivan
Fedorovitch vehemently; and he rose without another word, and went and
stood on the first step of the flight that led from the verandah to the
street, turning his back on the company. He was indignant with Lizabetha
Prokofievna, who did not think of moving even now.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, let me speak at last," cried the prince, anxious
and agitated. "Please let us understand one another. I say nothing about
the article, gentlemen, except that every word is false; I say this
because you know it as well as I do. It is shameful. I should be
surprised if any one of you could have written it."

"I did not know of its existence till this moment," declared Hippolyte.
"I do not approve of it."

"I knew it had been written, but I would not have advised its
publication," said Lebedeff's nephew, "because it is premature."

"I knew it, but I have a right. I... I..." stammered the "son of
Pavlicheff."

"What! Did you w