'And what is the object, may I ask, of your wanting to send for him?
I don't expect that at all, I don't wish it even!'

'What's the object, Nikolai Artemyevitch? He has disturbed you; very
likely he has checked the progress of your cure. I want to have an
explanation with him. I want to know how he has dared to annoy you.'

'I tell you again, that I do not ask that. And what can induce you
. . . _devant les domestiques_!'

Anna Vassilyevna flushed a little. 'You need not say that, Nikolai
Artemyevitch. I never . . . _devant les domestiques_ . . . Fedushka, go
and see you bring Pavel Yakovlitch here at once.'

The little page went off.

'And that's absolutely unnecessary,' muttered Nikolai Artemyevitch
between his teeth, and he began again pacing up and down the room. 'I
did not bring up the subject with that object.'

'Good Heavens, Paul must apologise to you.'

'Good Heavens, what are his apologies to me? And what do you mean by
apologies? That's all words.'

'Why, he must be corrected.'

'Well, you can correct him yourself. He will listen to you sooner
than to me. For my part I bear him no grudge.'