“And you’ll go to Nastasia Philipovna’s this evening—”
“If you insist: but, judge for yourself, can I go, ought I to go?”
“But she is not that sort of woman, I tell you!” said Gania, angrily. “She was only acting.”
“I know that—I know that; but what a part to play! And think what she must take you for, Gania! I know she kissed mother’s hand, and all that, but she laughed at you, all the same. All this is not good enough for 75,000 roubles, my dear boy. You are capable of honourable feelings still, and that’s why I am talking to you so. Oh! do take care what you are doing! Don’t you know yourself that it will end badly, Gania?”
So saying, and in a state of violent agitation, Varia left the room.
“There, they are all like that,” said Gania, laughing, “just as if I do not know all about it much better than they do.”
He sat down with these words, evidently intending to prolong his visit.
“If you know it so well,” said the prince a little timidly, “why do you choose all this worry for the sake of the 75,000, which, you confess, does not cover it?”
“I didn’t mean that,” said Gania; “but while we are upon the subject, let me hear your opinion. Is all this worry worth 75,000 or not?”
“Certainly not.”
“Of course! And it would be a disgrace to marry so, eh?”
“A great disgrace.”
“Oh, well, then you may know that I shall certainly do it, now. I shall certainly marry her. I was not quite sure of myself before, but now I am. Don’t say a word: I know what you want to tell me—”