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What are you doing? Oh, let me go!" "I sha'n't let you go, and you need not expect any mercy. If you're afraid to-day, we'll try again to-morrow. Alexis, where's the knife?" "David," roared Wassily, "don't commit a murder. What do you mean? And the watch! Well, I was joking. I I'll fetch it this minute. What a fellow you are! First you want to cut open Chrisauf Lukitsch; then me. Leave me, David.
This Christian Lukitsch, whose family name was Trankwillitatin, a lanky blockhead of a student, had the habit of coming to see us, the deuce knows why. To see about the children's education, my aunt used to say; but he could not do anything of the sort, because he was very ignorant and as stupid as a horse.
"Christian Lukitsch," answered my aunt with a little hesitation. "Christian?" asked my father; and then added with a wave of the hand, "It's all the same to me: you may throw it into the fire, for all I care." He buttoned his waistcoat, which had come undone, and went out, doubled up with coughing. "And you, cousin, do you agree?" said my aunt, turning to Nastasa. "Entirely," he answered.
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