me now, what game have you been up to? Have you been fighting with someone? In the tavern again, as before? Have you been beating that captain again?” Pyotr Ilyitch asked him reproachfully. “Whom have you been beating now … or killing, perhaps?”
“Nonsense!” said Mitya.
“Why ‘nonsense’?”
“Don’t worry,” said Mitya, and he suddenly laughed. “I smashed an old woman in the marketplace just now.”
“Smashed? An old woman?”
“An old man!” cried Mitya, looking Pyotr Ilyitch straight in the face, laughing, and shouting at him as though he were deaf.
“Confound it! An old woman, an old man. … Have you killed someone?”
“We made it up. We had a row—and made it up. In a place I know of. We parted friends. A fool. … He’s forgiven me. … He’s sure to have forgiven me by now …