"That's quite true," agreed Skouchayev. "Nothing of the sort has happened. However, youngsters are usually cunning, they never repeat what they know they oughtn't to repeat. Of course, my boy is still quite small. He's young enough to have repeated something silly, but I assure you he has said nothing of the sort." "And in the elder classes they know everything for themselves," went on Peredonov. "But, of course, I never say anything improper there." "Naturally," replied Skouchayev, "a school is not a market place." "That's the kind of people they are here," complained Peredonov. "They invent tales of things that never happened. That's why I've come to you--you're the Mayor of the town." Skouchayev felt very flattered that Peredonov had come to him. He did not understand what it was all about, but he was shrewd enough not to show his lack of comprehension. "And there are other things being said about me," continued Peredonov. "For one thing that I live with Varvara--they say that she's not my cousin but my mistress. And she's only a cousin to me--honest to God! She's a very distant relative--only a third cousin; there's nothing against marrying her. Indeed I'm going to marry her." "So-o. So-o. Of course!" said Skouchayev reflectively. "Besides, a bride's wreath ends the matter." "It was impossible earlier," said Peredonov. "I had important reasons. It was utterly impossible, or I should have married long ago, believe me." Skouchayev assumed an air of dignity, frowned, and, tapping on the dark tablecloth with his plump white fingers, said: "I believe you. If that is so, it alters the case entirely. I believe you now. I must confess that it was a little dubious for you to live, if you will permit me to say so, with your companion without marrying her. It was very dubious, perhaps because--well, you know children are an impressionable race; they're apt to pick things up. It's hard to teach them what's good, but the bad comes easily to them. That's why it was really dubious. And besides, whose business is it? That's how I look at it. It flatters me that you've come to complain to me, because although I'm only one of the common folk--I didn't go beyond the District school--still I have the respect and confidence of society. This is my third year as Mayor, so that my word counts for something among the burgesses." Skouchayev talked and all the time entangled himself in his own thoughts, and it seemed as if he would never end his tongue-spinning. He stopped abruptly and thought irritatedly: "This is a waste of time. That's the trouble with these learned men. You can't understand what they want. Everything's clear to him, to the learned man, in his books, but as soon as he gets his nose out of his books, he tangles up himself and tangles up other people."