'No, you don't know what I am going to say!' cried Nikolai
Artemyevitch in a falsetto shriek, suddenly losing the majesty of his
oratorical pose, the smooth dignity of his speech, and his bass notes.
'You don't know, vile hussy!'

'For mercy's sake, _Nicolas_,' murmured Anna Vassilyevna, '_vous me
faites mourir_?'

'Don't tell me _que je vous fais mourir_, Anna Vassilyevna! You can't
conceive what you will hear directly! Prepare yourself for the worst,
I warn you!'

Anna Vassilyevna seemed stupefied.

'No,' resumed Nikolai Artemyevitch, turning to Elena, 'you don't know
what I am going to say!'

'I am to blame towards you----' she began.

'Ah, at last!'

'I am to blame towards you,' pursued Elena, 'for not having long ago
confessed----'

'But do you know,' Nikolai Artemyevitch interrupted, 'that I can crush
you with one word?'

Elena raised her eyes to look at him.