“Don’t be the first to insult me then. I thank you for the past, but I repeat I’ve done with all men, good and bad. I am writing to Darya Pavlovna, whom I’ve forgotten so unpardonably till now. You may take it to her tomorrow, if you like, now merci .”

“Stepan Trofimovitch, I assure you that the matter is more serious than you think. Do you think that you’ve crushed someone there? You’ve pulverised no one, but have broken yourself to pieces like an empty bottle.” (Oh, I was coarse and discourteous, I remember it with regret.) “You’ve absolutely no reason to write to Darya Pavlovna⁠ ⁠… and what will you do with yourself without me? What do you understand about practical life? I expect you are plotting something else? You’ll simply come to grief again if you go plotting something more.⁠ ⁠…”

He rose and came close up to the door.