"I'll give you a sound beating" she said through her teeth.
She started striking him. He wriggled powerlessly in her mighty arms.
"I've got you in my power, you pigmy. What I want I'll do. I can shove you into my pocket,—how dare you oppose me! I don't care for your rank, I'll thrash you within an inch of your life."
"I'll complain about it," squeaked Saranin.
But he soon realised the uselessness of resistance. He was so very small, and Aglaya had clearly resolved to put her whole strength into it.
"All right then, all right," he wailed, "I'll go into Strigal's window. I'll sit there,—and bring disgrace on you. I'll put on all my decorations."
Aglaya laughed.
"You'll put on what Strigal gives you," she shouted.
She lugged her husband into the drawing-room. She threw him before the young man and shouted:
"Take him! Carry him off this very moment. And the money in advance. Every month!"
Her words were hysterical outcries.
The young man produced a pocket-book. He counted out two hundred roubles.
"Not enough!" shouted Aglaya.
