"Who says from interest alone? Is it I who am a selfish woman?" cried Yevpraksia heatedly, suddenly shifting the conversation. "Do you mean to reproach me for the bread I eat?" "I don't reproach you. I only said that not from interest alone do people----" "'I said'! Talk, but talk sensibly. The idea! I serve from interest! Kindly permit me to ask you what particular advantage I have derived except cider and gherkins?" "Well, cider and gherkins are not the only things----" ventured Yudushka, unable to restrain himself. "What else have I gotten? Let me hear, let me hear!" "Who sends four sacks of flour to your parents every month?" "Four sacks. What else?" "Groats, hemp-seed oil and other things----" "So you are begrudging my poor parents the wretched groats and oil you send them? Oh, you!" "I am not begrudging them. It's you----" "Now you are accusing me. I can't eat a crust of bread without being reproached for it, and it's I who am blamed for everything." Yevpraksia could hold out no longer and burst into tears. Meanwhile the tea kept on boiling, so that Porfiry Vladimirych became seriously alarmed. So he suppressed his growing temper, seated himself beside Yevpraksia and patted her on her back. "Well, well. All right. Pour the tea. What is all this crying for?" Yevpraksia emitted a few more sobs, pouted and looked into space with her dull eyes. "You have just been speaking of young fellows," he went on, trying to lend his voice as caressing a ring as possible. "Well--after all, I'm not so old, am I?" "The idea! Leave me alone." "Come, come. I--do you know--when I served in St. Petersburg, our director wanted to give me his daughter in marriage?" "Must have been an old maid--or a cripple." "No, she was quite a presentable young lady. And how she sang, how she sang!" "Maybe she sang well, but you accompanied her badly," she retorted. "No, I----" Porfiry Vladimirych was completely put out. He was ready to act against his conscience and show that he, too, was skilled in the art of love-making. So he began to rock his body rather clumsily and went so far as to make an attempt to embrace Yevpraksia round her waist. But she drew back firmly from his outstretched arms and cried out angrily: "Do me a favor and leave me, you goblin! Else I'll scald you with this boiling water. And I don't want your tea. I don't want anything. The idea--to reproach me for the piece of bread I eat. I'll go away from here! By Jesus, I will!" She banged the door and ran out, leaving Porfiry Vladimirych alone in the dining-room. Yudushka was completely puzzled. He began to pour the tea himself, but his hands trembled so violently that he had to call a servant to his assistance. "No, this is impossible. I must think up something, arrange matters," he whispered, pacing up and down the dining-room in excitement.