"Lord, my God!" the shoemaker continued warmly, "when is the end? when, O Lord! A poor wretch I am, a poor wretch whose sufferings are endless! What a life, what a life mine's been come to think of it! In my young days, I was beaten by a German I was 'prentice to; in the prime of life beaten by my own countrymen, and last of all, in ripe years, see what I have been brought to. . ." "Ugh, you flabby soul!" said Gavrila Andreitch. "Why do you make so many words about it?" "Why, do you say, Gavrila Andreitch? It's not a beating I'm afraid of, Gavrila Andreitch. A gentleman may chastise me in private, but give me a civil word before folks, and I'm a man still; but see now, whom I've to do with . . ." "Come, get along," Gavrila interposed impatiently. Kapiton turned away and staggered off. "But, if it were not for him," the steward shouted after him, "you would consent for your part?" "I signify my acquiescence," retorted Kapiton as he disappeared. His fine language did not desert him, even in the most trying positions. The steward walked several times up and down the room. "Well, call Tatiana now," he said at last. A few instants later, Tatiana had come up almost noiselessly, and was standing in the doorway. "What are your orders, Gavrila Andreitch?" she said in a soft voice. The steward looked at her intently. "Well, Taniusha," he said, "would you like to be married? Our lady has chosen a husband for you?" "Yes, Gavrila Andreitch. And whom has she deigned to name as a husband for me?" she added falteringly. "Kapiton, the shoemaker." "Yes, sir." "He's a feather-brained fellow, that's certain. But it's just for that the mistress reckons upon you." "Yes, sir." "There's one difficulty . . . you know the deaf man, Gerasim, he's courting you, you see. How did you come to bewitch such a bear? But you see, he'll kill you, very like, he's such a bear . . ." "He'll kill me, Gavrila Andreitch, he'll kill me, and no mistake." "Kill you . . . Well we shall see about that. What do you mean by saying he'll kill you? Has he any right to kill you? tell me yourself." "I don't know, Gavrila Andreitch, about his having any right or not." "What a woman! why, you've made him no promise, I suppose . . ." "What are you pleased to ask of me?" The steward was silent for a little, thinking, "You're a meek soul! Well, that's right," he said aloud; "we'll have another talk with you later, now you can go, Taniusha; I see you're not unruly, certainly." Tatiana turned, steadied herself a little against the doorpost, and went away.