"Don't shout or swear, Nadrei Stepanovitch!... You think perhaps that because it is cholera time you have a right to order me about.... But you are wrong.... All your cures here are of no use to mankind, they are not worth a brass farthing! No one wants you and your science and your cures!.. Well, if I did call your place a deathtrap it was nonsense perhaps I was talking, ... that I acknowledge ... because I was in a rage. But to shout at me here like that ... you have no right to behave so!" "You won't get off so easily," said the doctor quietly; "I'll have to teach you a lesson!... Hi there! Come in, you that are outside!" A group of listeners had already assembled in the corridor. Grischka's eyes flashed, and he set his teeth. "I don't call out, and I am not afraid.... But if you are so very anxious to give me a lesson ... then I shall have something to say about it." "Well, say it then quickly!" "I shall go into town, and tell every one, 'My good people, listen! and I will tell you how they cure the cholera!'" "W-what?" said the doctor; opening still wider his eyes. "Yes, and we'll all come up here together; and we'll help you to disinfect with a vengeance ... we'll make a bonfire!" The doctor's anger had turned to intense astonishment, as he listened to this man, whom he had known as a decent hard-working fellow, but who was now carried away with these mad rebellious fancies. "What are you saying, you fool?... How can you be so stupid!" The word "stupid" jarred on Grischka's sensibilities. He realized that he had fully deserved the title, but the consciousness of this increased his rage. "I know very well what I am saying!" he added with glowing eyes. "It's all the same to me.... To such as I am, it's all the same, at any time; it's useless for us to try and restrain our impulses. Come, Matrona, pack up your traps!" "I'm not going to leave," said Matrona in a quiet restrained voice. The doctor watched them both with astonished eyes, not knowing what to make of it all. "You are either drunk, or mad!" he said to Grischka. "Do you understand yet what you are doing?" Grischka either could not or would not give in; he felt he had gone too far. So he retorted in a tone of would-be irony-- "You ask if I know what I am doing?... But do you know yourself what you are doing? Disinfecting? Ha! ha!... and curing the sick people; whilst those who are well are dying from the stress and misery of life!... Matrona, I'll knock your head off if you don't come with me!" "I shall not go with you!" She stood there, white and motionless; but the expression in her eyes was cold and resolute, as she looked her husband in the face. This look had the effect of damping his heroics, his head sunk on his breast, and he turned silently away.