'I did not at all ... with that idea,' rejoined Nikolai Artemyevitch,
still as before avoiding Shubin's eyes. 'However, I will readily
forgive you, for, as you know, I am not an exacting person.'

'Oh, that admits of no doubt!' said Shubin. 'But allow me to be
inquisitive; is Anna Vassilyevna aware precisely what constituted my
offence?'

'No, I know nothing,' observed Anna Vassilyevna, craning forward her
head expectantly.

'O Good Lord!' exclaimed Nikolai Artemyevitch hurriedly, 'how often
have I prayed and besought, how often have I said how I hate these
scenes and explanations! When one's been away an age, and comes home
hoping for rest--talk of the family circle, _interieur_, being a family
man--and here one finds scenes and unpleasantnesses. There's not a
minute of peace. One's positively driven to the club ... or, or
elsewhere. A man is alive, he has a physical side, and it has its
claims, but here----'

And without concluding his sentence Nikolai Artemyevitch went quickly
out, slamming the door.

Anna Vassilyevna looked after him. 'To the club!' she muttered
bitterly: 'you are not going to the club, profligate? You've no one at
the club to give away my horses to--horses from my own stable--and the
grey ones too! My favourite colour. Yes, yes, fickle-hearted man,' she
went on raising her voice, 'you are not going to the club, As for you,
Paul,' she pursued, getting up, 'I wonder you're not ashamed. I should
have thought you would not be so childish. And now my head has begun