"Very good, Viéra Pavlovna; I will begin to say rough things to you if you like that better. There is so little femininity in your nature, Viéra Pavlovna, that most likely you have nothing but men's thoughts."
"Akh! my dearest, what does that word 'femininity' mean? I understand that a woman speaks in a contralto voice,—a man, in a baritone; but what of that? Is it worth while to bother about our contralto voices? Is it worth while to ask us about such things? Why do people keep telling us that it is our duty to remain feminine? Isn't it a piece of nonsense, dear?"
"It is nonsense, Viérotchka, and a very great piece of triviality."
"So, then, my dear, I shall not bother myself about femininity; now listen, Dmitri Sergéitch, I am going to express in absolutely masculine fashion the way that I think we ought to live. We shall be friends; only I wish to be your principal friend. Akh! I have never told you how I dislike this dear Kirsánof of yours!"
"You must not, Viérotchka; he is a very fine man!"
"But I hate him! I shall forbid your seeing him!"
"That is a fine beginning! She is so afraid of my despotism that she wants to make a doll of her husband. And how can I help seeing him when we live together?"
"You are always sitting together like lovers!"
"Of course. At breakfast and at dinner. When one's hands are always occupied, it is hard to use them like lovers' hands."
"And you are always inseparable!"
"Most likely. He is in his room and I in mine; that means almost inseparable."
"And if that is so, why shouldn't you stop seeing him altogether?"
"Well [da], we are friends; sometimes we want to talk, and we talk, and so far we haven't been burdensome to each other."
"You are always sitting together, hugging and disputing. I hate him."
"What makes you think so, Viérotchka? We have never quarrelled. We live almost separately; we are friends, to be sure; but what of that?"
"Akh! my dearest, how I deceived you, how cleverly I deceived you. You did not want to tell me how we should live
