to explain.
“It’s Perezvon’s master, don’t worry about me,” Kolya said incisively again.
“Perezvon?” repeated the doctor, perplexed.
“He hears the bell, but where it is he cannot tell. Goodbye, we shall meet in Syracuse.”
“Who’s this? Who’s this?” The doctor flew into a terrible rage.
“He is a schoolboy, doctor, he is a mischievous boy; take no notice of him,” said Alyosha, frowning and speaking quickly.
“Kolya, hold your tongue!” he cried to Krassotkin.
“Take no notice of him, doctor,” he repeated, rather impatiently.
“He wants a thrashing, a good thrashing!” The doctor stamped in a perfect fury.
“And you know, apothecary, my Perezvon might bite!” said Kolya, turning pale, with quivering voice and flashing eyes. “ Ici , Perezvon!”
“Kolya, if you say another word, I’ll have nothing more to do with you,” Alyosha cried peremptorily.
“There is only one man in the