Evgenie Pavlovitch flushed up and looked angrily at Nastasia Philipovna, then turned his back on her.

“What! don’t you know about it yet? He doesn’t know⁠—imagine that! Why, he’s shot himself. Your uncle shot himself this very morning. I was told at two this afternoon. Half the town must know it by now. They say there are 350,000 roubles, government money, missing; some say 500,000. And I was under the impression that he would leave you a fortune! He’s whistled it all away. A most depraved old gentleman, really! Well, ta, ta!⁠— bonne chance ! Surely you intend to be off there, don’t you? Ha, ha! You’ve retired from the army in good time, I see! Plain clothes! Well done, sly rogue! Nonsense! I see⁠—you knew it all before⁠—I dare say you knew all about it yesterday⁠—”