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Updated: May 1, 2025
But why are you hum-bugging, Nikolai Eremyitch?... You understand me, you know. 'No, I don't understand. 'No, you do understand. 'No, by God, I don't understand! 'Swearing too! Well, tell us, since it's come to that: have you no fear of God? Why can't you let the poor girl live in peace? What do you want of her? 'Whom are you talking of? the fat man asked with feigned amazement.
He could not divide himself into two compartments like that and pretend that only one counted in his character. Who was he, to talk of dying for art? No, he was but an everyday man. He wanted Mary Ann yes, he might as well admit that to himself now. It was no use hum-bugging himself any longer. Why should he give her up? She was his discovery, his treasure-trove, his property.
She's awfully nice." "Do you say that because you think I wouldn't?" asked his mother. "Isn't she rather sly and hum-bugging?" "Well, yes, she is, to a certain extent," Dan admitted, with a laugh. "But she doesn't mean any harm by it. She's extremely kind-hearted." "To you? I dare say. And Mr. Pasmer is rather under her thumb?"
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