Nikolai Mikhailovitch Goudayevsky was a short, robust, dark man, bald and with a long beard. His movements were impetuous and unexpected. He seemed not to walk but to flutter along. He was small like a sparrow, and it was always impossible to tell from his face and attitude what he would do the next minute. In the midst of a serious conversation he would suddenly throw out his knee, which would not so much amuse people as perplex them as to his motive. At home or when visiting he would sit quiet for a long time and then suddenly jump up without any visible cause, pace quickly up and down the room, and exclaim or knock something. In the street he would walk, then suddenly pause, or make some gesture or gymnastic exercise, and then he would continue his walk. On the documents which he drew up or attested Goudayevsky liked to write ridiculous remarks, as, for example, instead of writing about Ivan Ivanitch Ivanov that he lived on the Moscow Square in Ermillova's house, he would write Ivan Ivanitch Ivanov who lived on the Market Square in that quarter where it was impossible to breathe for the stench; and so forth; and he even made a note sometimes of the number of geese and hens kept by the man whose signature he was attesting. Julia Goudayevskaya was a tall, slim, bony woman, passionate and extremely sentimental, who, in spite of the disparity of their figures, resembled her husband in certain habits: she had the same impetuous and disproportionate movements, unlike those of other people. She was dressed youthfully and in colours, and whenever she made her quick movements the long variegated ribbons, with which she loved to adorn in abundance her dress and hair, flew in all directions. Antosha, a slender, alert boy, bowed courteously. Peredonov was seated in the drawing-room and he immediately began to complain of Antosha: that he was lazy, inattentive, and did not listen in class but chattered and laughed, and was mischievous during recess. Antosha was astonished--he did not know that he was considered such a wicked boy--and he began to defend himself hotly. Both parents were annoyed. "Will you be good enough to tell me," shouted the father, "in what precisely his mischievousness consists?" "Nika, don't defend him," cried the mother. "He shouldn't get up to mischief." "But what mischief has he done?" enquired the father, running, almost rolling on his short legs. "He's generally mischievous. He raises a racket and he fights," said Peredonov morosely. "He's always in mischief." "I don't fight at all," exclaimed Antosha dolefully. "Ask anyone you like. I haven't fought with anybody." "He doesn't let anyone pass," said Peredonov. "Very well, I'll go to the _gymnasia_ myself and I'll ask the inspector," said Goudayevsky decisively. "Nika, Nika, why don't you believe him?" cried Julia. "Would you like to see Antosha turn out a good-for-nothing? He needs a beating." "Nonsense, nonsense!" cried the father.