'What do I want? You want to know what I want?' (The cashier gave a sickly nod.) 'I want to give him a lesson, the fat, greasy villain, the scoundrelly tell-tale!... I'll give him a tale to tell!' Pavel flung himself into a chair. 'What are you saying, Pavel Andreitch! Calm yourself.... Aren't you ashamed? Don't forget whom you're talking about, Pavel Andreitch!' lisped the cashier. 'Forget whom I'm talking about? What do I care for his being made head-clerk? A fine person they've found to promote, there's no denying that! They've let the goat loose in the kitchen garden, you may say!' 'Hush, hush, Pavel Andreitch, hush! drop that ... what rubbish are you talking?' 'So Master Fox is beginning to fawn? I will wait for him,' Pavel said with passion, and he struck a blow on the table. 'Ah, here he's coming!' he added with a look at the window; 'speak of the devil. With your kind permission!' (He, got up.) Nikolai Eremyitch came into the counting-house. His face was shining with satisfaction, but he was rather taken aback at seeing Pavel Andreitch. 'Good day to you, Nikolai Eremyitch,' said Pavel in a significant tone, advancing deliberately to meet him. The head-clerk made no reply. The face of the merchant showed itself in the doorway. 'What, won't you deign to answer me?' pursued Pavel. 'But no ... no,' he added; 'that's not it; there's no getting anything by shouting and abuse. No, you'd better tell me in a friendly way, Nikolai Eremyitch; what do you persecute me for? what do you want to ruin me for? Come, speak, speak.' 'This is no fit place to come to an understanding with you,' the head-clerk answered in some agitation, 'and no fit time. But I must say I wonder at one thing: what makes you suppose I want to ruin you, or that I'm persecuting you? And if you come to that, how can I persecute you? You're not in my counting-house.' 'I should hope not,' answered Pavel; 'that would be the last straw! But why are you hum-bugging, Nikolai Eremyitch?... You understand me, you know.' 'No, I don't understand.' 'No, you do understand.' 'No, by God, I don't understand!' 'Swearing too! Well, tell us, since it's come to that: have you no fear of God? Why can't you let the poor girl live in peace? What do you want of her?' 'Whom are you talking of?' the fat man asked with feigned amazement. 'Ugh! doesn't know; what next? I'm talking of Tatyana. Have some fear of God--what do you want to revenge yourself for? You ought to be ashamed: a married man like you, with children as big as I am; it's a very different thing with me.... I mean marriage: I'm acting straight-forwardly.' 'How am I to blame in that, Pavel Andreitch? The mistress won't permit you to marry; it's her seignorial will! What have I to do with it?'