Hippolyte. "How dare you grin at me like
that?" she shouted furiously, rushing at the invalid, whose mocking
smile drove her to distraction.

Exclamations arose on all sides.

"Lizabetha Prokofievna! Lizabetha Prokofievna! Lizabetha Prokofievna!"

"Mother, this is disgraceful!" cried Aglaya.

Mrs. Epanchin had approached Hippolyte and seized him firmly by the arm,
while her eyes, blazing with fury, were fixed upon his face.

"Do not distress yourself, Aglaya Ivanovitch," he answered calmly; "your
mother knows that one cannot strike a dying man. I am ready to explain
why I was laughing. I shall be delighted if you will let me--"

A violent fit of coughing, which lasted a full minute, prevented him
from finishing his sentence.

"He is dying, yet he will not stop holding forth!" cried Lizabetha
Prokofievna. She loosed her hold on his arm, almost terrified, as she
saw him wiping the blood from his lips. "Why do you talk? You ought to
go home to bed."

"So I will," he whispered hoarsely. "As soon as I get home I will go to
bed at once; and I know I shall be dead in a fortnight; Botkine told me
so himself last week. That is why I should like to say a few farewell
words, if you will let me."

"But you must be mad! It is ridiculous! You should take care of
yourself; what is the use of holding a conversation now? Go home to bed,
do!" cried Mrs. Epanchin in horror.

"When I do go to bed I shall never get up again," said Hippolyte, with a
smile. "I meant to take to my bed yesterday and stay there till I died,
but as my legs can still carry me, I put it off for two days, so as to
come here with them to-day--but I am very tired."

"Oh, sit down, sit down, why are you standing?"

Lizabetha Prokofievna placed a chair for him with her own hands.

"Thank you," he said gently. "Sit opposite to me, and let us talk. We
must have a talk now, Lizabetha Prokofievna; I am very anxious for it."
He smiled at her once more. "Remember that today, for the last time, I
am out in the air, and in the company of my fellow-men, and that in a
fortnight I shall I certainly be no longer in this world. So, in a way,
this is my farewell to nature and to men. I am not very sentimental,
but do you know, I am quite glad that all this has happened at Pavlofsk,
where at least one can see a green tree."

"But why talk now?" replied Lizabetha Prokofievna, more and more
alarmed; "are quite feverish. Just now you would not stop shouting, and
now you