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It seemed to her for some reason that if her husband were suddenly to turn facing her, and to say, "Olga, I am unhappy," she would cry or laugh, and she would be at ease. She fancied that her legs were aching and her body was uncomfortable all over because of the strain on her feelings. "Pyotr, what are you thinking of?" she said. "Oh, nothing . . ." her husband answered.
Yulia Mihailovna cried in a sudden, outburst, almost with tears, putting her handkerchief to her eyes. Pyotr Stepanovitch was positively taken aback for the moment. "Good heavens! I.... What have I said? I've always..." "You never have, never! You have never done him justice." "There's no understanding a woman," grumbled Pyotr Stepanovitch, with a wry smile.
It's a beastly job!" "But why is she in such a panic? Tell me," the young man whispered too. "She wouldn't see even me yesterday. I don't think she has anything to fear for her husband, quite the contrary; he fell down so creditably at the fire ready to sacrifice his life, so to speak." "Well, there it is," laughed Pyotr Stepanovitch.
"Excuse me, I fancied so from your inquiry. I was once his guardian.... A very nice young man and advanced. I like to meet young people: one learns new things from them." Luzhin looked round hopefully at them all. "How do you mean?" asked Razumihin. "In the most serious and essential matters," Pyotr Petrovitch replied, as though delighted at the question.
Lebeziatnikov repeated, staring him straight in the face. Pyotr Petrovitch gave a positive start all noticed it and recalled it afterwards. Lebeziatnikov strode into the room. "And you dared to call me as witness?" he said, going up to Pyotr Petrovitch. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" muttered Luzhin. "I mean that you... are a slanderer, that's what my words mean!"
To our hurried questions whether it was by arrangement? Who was in the carriage? Pyotr Stepanovitch answered that he knew nothing about it; no doubt it had been arranged, but that he did not see Stavrogin himself; possibly the old butler, Alexey Yegorytch, might have been in the carriage. At this point I lost patience, and cried furiously to Pyotr Stepanovitch: "It's all your doing, you rascal!
Oh, I scout with indignation the contemptible slander which was spread later of some supposed liaison between Yulia Mihailovna and Pyotr Stepanovitch. There was no such thing, nor could there be.
"You see Pyotr Petrovitch writes that you are not to be with us this evening, and that he will go away if you come. So will you... come?" "That, of course, is not for me to decide, but for you first, if you are not offended by such a request; and secondly, by Dounia, if she, too, is not offended. I will do what you think best," he added, drily.
"Hold your tongue, hold your tongue" Von Lembke stamped on the carpet "and don't dare..." God knows what it might have come to. Alas, there was one circumstance involved in the matter of which neither Pyotr Stepanovitch nor even Yulia Mihailovna herself had any idea.
He was continually thrusting himself forward to whisper fussily to him, but the latter scarcely answered him, or muttered something irritably to get rid of him. Shigalov and Virginsky had arrived rather before Pyotr Stepanovitch, and as soon as he came they drew a little apart in profound and obviously intentional silence.
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