subject? . . ."

With tears in his eyes, trembling all over, Abogin opened his heart
to the doctor with perfect sincerity. He spoke warmly, pressing
both hands on his heart, exposing the secrets of his private life
without the faintest hesitation, and even seemed to be glad that
at last these secrets were no longer pent up in his breast. If he
had talked in this way for an hour or two, and opened his heart,
he would undoubtedly have felt better. Who knows, if the doctor had
listened to him and had sympathized with him like a friend, he might
perhaps, as often happens, have reconciled himself to his trouble
without protest, without doing anything needless and absurd. . . .
But what happened was quite different. While Abogin was speaking
the outraged doctor perceptibly changed. The indifference and wonder
on his face gradually gave way to an expression of bitter resentment,
indignation, and anger. The features of his face became even harsher,
coarser, and more unpleasant. When Abogin held out before his eyes
the photograph of a young woman with a handsome face as cold and
expressionless as a nun's and asked him whether, looking at that
face, one could conceive that it was capable of duplicity, the
doctor suddenly flew out, and with flashing eyes said, rudely rapping
out each word:

"What are you telling me all this for? I have no desire to hear it!
I have no desire to!" he shouted and brought his fist down on the
table. "I don't want your vulgar secrets! Damnation take them! Don't
dare to tell me of such vulgar doings! Do you consider that I have
not been insulted enough already? That I am a flunkey whom you can
insult without restraint? Is that it?"