“He brought him the money as a man he could trust, saying, ‘Take care of it for me, friend, there’ll be a police search at my place to-morrow.’ And he kept it. ‘You have given it to the Church,’ he declared. I said to him: ‘You’re a scoundrel,’ I said. ‘No,’ said he, ‘I’m not a scoundrel, but I’m broad-minded.’ But that wasn’t he, that was some one else. I’ve muddled him with some one else ... without noticing it. Come, another glass and that’s enough. Take away the bottle, Ivan. I’ve been telling lies. Why didn’t you stop me, Ivan, and tell me I was lying?” “I knew you’d stop of yourself.” “That’s a lie. You did it from spite, from simple spite against me. You despise me. You have come to me and despised me in my own house.” “Well, I’m going away. You’ve had too much brandy.” “I’ve begged you for Christ’s sake to go to Tchermashnya for a day or two, and you don’t go.” “I’ll go to-morrow if you’re so set upon it.” “You won’t go. You want to keep an eye on me. That’s what you want, spiteful fellow. That’s why you won’t go.” The old man persisted. He had reached that state of drunkenness when the drunkard who has till then been inoffensive tries to pick a quarrel and to assert himself. “Why are you looking at me? Why do you look like that? Your eyes look at me and say, ‘You ugly drunkard!’ Your eyes are mistrustful. They’re contemptuous.... You’ve come here with some design. Alyosha, here, looks at me and his eyes shine. Alyosha doesn’t despise me. Alexey, you mustn’t love Ivan.” “Don’t be ill-tempered with my brother. Leave off attacking him,” Alyosha said emphatically. “Oh, all right. Ugh, my head aches. Take away the brandy, Ivan. It’s the third time I’ve told you.” He mused, and suddenly a slow, cunning grin spread over his face. “Don’t be angry with a feeble old man, Ivan. I know you don’t love me, but don’t be angry all the same. You’ve nothing to love me for. You go to Tchermashnya. I’ll come to you myself and bring you a present. I’ll show you a little wench there. I’ve had my eye on her a long time. She’s still running about bare-foot. Don’t be afraid of bare-footed wenches—don’t despise them—they’re pearls!” And he kissed his hand with a smack.