“Would you like to look anywhere else if you’re not ashamed to?”
“No, there’s no need to, at present.”
“Well, am I to stay naked like this?” he added savagely.
“Yes, that can’t be helped for the time. … Kindly sit down here for a while. You can wrap yourself in a quilt from the bed, and I … I’ll see to all this.”
All the things were shown to the witnesses. The report of the search was drawn up, and at last Nikolay Parfenovitch went out, and the clothes were carried out after him. Ippolit Kirillovitch went out, too. Mitya was left alone with the peasants, who stood in silence, never taking their eyes off him. Mitya wrapped himself up in the quilt. He felt cold. His bare feet stuck out, and he couldn’t pull the quilt over so as to cover them. Nikolay Parfenovitch seemed to be gone a long time, “an insufferable time.” “He thinks of me as a puppy,” thought Mitya, gnashing his teeth. “That rotten prosecutor has gone, too, contemptuous no doubt, it disgusts him to see me naked!”
Mitya imagined, however, that his clothes would be examined and returned to him. But what was his indignation when Nikolay Parfenovitch came back with quite different clothes, brought in behind him by a peasant.
“Here are clothes for you,” he observed airily, seeming well satisfied with the success of his mission. “ Mr. Kalganov has kindly provided these for this unusual emergency, as well as a clean shirt. Luckily he had them all in his trunk. You can keep your own socks and underclothes.”
Mitya flew into a passion.