The reader will now be able readily to understand the cause of the perturbation which seized upon Gavríla, the major-domo, after his conversation with his mistress. "The mistress,"--he thought, as he sat by the window,--"of course, favours Gerásim" (this was well known to Gavríla, and therefore he also showed indulgence to him); "still, he is a dumb brute. I can't inform the mistress that Gerásim is courting Tatyána. And, after all, 't is just; what sort of a husband is he? And, on the other hand, Lord forgive! for just as soon as that forest fiend finds out that Tatyána is to be married to Kapíton, he 'll smash everything in the house, by Heaven he will! For you can't reason with him--you can't prevail upon him, the devil that he is, in any way whatsoever--sinful man that I am to have said so wicked a thing .... that 's so!".... The appearance of Kapíton broke the thread of Gavríla's meditations. The giddy-pated shoemaker entered, threw his hands behind him, and, leaning up against a projecting corner of the wall near the door, in a free-and-easy way he stuck his right leg crosswise in front of the left and shook his head, as much as to say: "Here I am. What 's your will?" Gavríla looked at Kapíton and began to drum on the jamb of the window with his fingers. Kapíton merely narrowed his leaden eyes a bit, but did not lower them, even smiled slightly and passed his hand over his whitish hair, which stood out in disarray in all directions, as much as to say: "Well, yes, 't is I. What are you staring for?" "Good,"--said Gavríla, and paused for a space. "Thou 'rt a nice one,"--remarked Gavríla, and paused awhile.--"A nice person, there 's no denying that!" Kapíton merely shrugged his shoulders. "And art thou any better, pray?" he said to himself. "Come, now, just look at thyself; come, look,"--went on Gavríla reprovingly;--"Well, art not thou ashamed of thyself?" Kapíton surveyed with a calm glance his threadbare and tattered coat and his patched trousers, scanned with particular attention his shoes perforated with holes, especially the one on whose toe his right foot rested in so dandified a manner, and again fixed his eyes on the major-domo. "What of it, sir?" "What of it, sir?"--repeated Gavríla.--"What of it, sir? And thou sayest: 'What of it, sir?' to boot! Thou lookest like the devil,--Lord forgive me, sinful man that I am,--that 's what thou lookest like." Kapíton winked his little eyes briskly. "Curse away, curse away, Gavríla Andréitch," he thought to himself. "Thou hast been drunk again, apparently,"--began Gavríla;--"drunk again, surely? Hey? Come, answer." "Owing to the feebleness of my health, I have succumbed to spirituous beverages, in fact,"--returned Kapíton. "Owing to feebleness of health?.... Thou art not whipped enough, that 's what; and thou hast served thine apprenticeship in Peter[28] to boot.... Much thou didst learn in thine apprenticeship! Thou dost nothing but eat the bread of idleness."