“So much the better for you. Well, it’s time I was going. Goodbye!”
“You are at your saucy pranks again?” cried the man. “You are at your saucy pranks again? I know, you are at it again!”
“It’s not your business, brother, if I am at my saucy pranks again,” said Kolya, standing still and scanning him.
“Not my business?”
“No; it’s not your business.”
“Whose then? Whose then? Whose then?”
“It’s Trifon Nikititch’s business, not yours.”
“What Trifon Nikititch?” asked the youth, staring with loutish amazement at Kolya, but still as angry as ever.
Kolya scanned him gravely.
“Have you been to the Church of the Ascension?” he suddenly asked him, with stern emphasis.
“What Church of Ascension? What for? No, I haven’t,” said the young man, somewhat taken aback.
“Do you know Sabaneyev?” Kolya went on even more emphatically and even more severely.
“What Sabaneyev? No, I don’t know him.”
“Well then you can go to the devil,” said Kolya, cutting short the conversation; and turning sharply to the right he strode quickly on his way as though he disdained further conversation with a dolt who did not even know Sabaneyev.