"I won't have you drink!"
No answer followed. Velchaninov lighted the candle, and Pavel Pavlovitch at once sat down on the chair. Velchaninov remained standing before him, with a frown on his face.
"I, too, promised to say my 'last' word," he began, with an inward, still suppressed irritation. "Here it is—that word: consider on my conscience that everything between us is over, so that, in fact, there is nothing for us to talk about—do you hear?—nothing; and so wouldn't it be better for you to go away at once, and I'll dose the door after you?"
"Let us settle our account, Alexey Ivanovitch," said Pavel Pavlovitch, looking in his face, however, with peculiar mildness.
"Set-tle our ac-count!" repeated Velchaninov, greatly surprised. "That's a strange thing to say! Settle what account? Bah! Isn't that perhaps that 'last word' you promised . . . to reveal to me?”
"It is."
"We've no account to settle; we settled our account long ago!" Velchaninov pronounced proudly.
"Can you really think so?" Pavel Pavlovitch brought out in a voice full of feeling, clasping his hands strangely and holding them before his breast.
Velchaninov made him no answer, but continued pacing up and down the room. "Liza! Liza!" he was moaning in his heart.
"What did you want to settle, though?" he asked him, frowning, after a rather prolonged silence.
Pavel Pavlovitch had been following him about the room with his eyes all this time, still holding his hands clasped before him.
"Don’t go there again," he almost whispered in a voice of entreaty, and he suddenly got up from his chair.
"What! So that's all you are thinking about?" Velchaninov laughed spitefully. "You've surprised me all day, though!" he was beginning malignantly, but suddenly his whole face changed. "Listen," he said mournfully, with deep and sincere feeling; "I consider that I have never lowered myself as I have to-day—to begin with, by consenting to go with you, and then—by what happened there. . . . It was so paltry, so pitiful. . . . I've defiled and debased myself by mixing myself up in it . . . and forgetting . . . But there!" he cried hastily. "Listen, you attacked me to-day in an unguarded moment when I was
