Shatov turned sharply in his chair, and growled something to himself. I believe he meant to get up and go away. Liza rose from her chair but sank back again at once without even paying befitting attention to her mother's squeal--not from "waywardness," but obviously because she was entirely absorbed by some other overwhelming impression. She was looking absent-mindedly into the air, no longer noticing even Marya Timofyevna. III "Ach, here!" Praskovya Ivanovna indicated an easy chair near the table and sank heavily into it with the assistance of Mavriky Nikolaevitch. "I wouldn't have sat down in your house, my lady, if it weren't for my legs," she added in a breaking voice. Varvara Petrovna raised her head a little, and with an expression of suffering pressed the fingers of her right hand to her right temple, evidently in acute pain _(tic douloureux)_. "Why so, Praskovya Ivanovna; why wouldn't you sit down in my house? I possessed your late husband's sincere friendship all his life; and you and I used to play with our dolls at school together as girls." Praskovya Ivanovna waved her hands. "I knew that was coming! You always begin about the school when you want to reproach me--that's your way. But to my thinking that's only fine talk. I can't stand the school you're always talking about." "You've come in rather a bad temper, I'm afraid; how are your legs? Here they're bringing you some coffee, please have some, drink it and don't be cross." "Varvara Petrovna, you treat me as though I were a child. I won't have any coffee, so there!" And she pettishly waved away the footman who was bringing her coffee. (All the others refused coffee too except Mavriky Nikolaevitch and me. Stepan Trofimovitch took it, but put it aside on the table. Though Marya Timofyevna was very eager to have another cup and even put out her hand to take it, on second thoughts she refused it ceremoniously, and was obviously pleased with herself for doing so.) Varvara Petrovna gave a wry smile. "I'll tell you what it is, Praskovya Ivanovna, my friend, you must have taken some fancy into your head again, and that's why you've come. You've simply lived on fancies all your life. You flew into a fury at the mere mention of our school; but do you remember how you came and persuaded all the class that a hussar called Shablykin had proposed to you, and how Mme. Lefebure proved on the spot you were lying. Yet you weren't lying, you were simply imagining it all to amuse yourself. Come, tell me, what is it now? What are you fancying now; what is it vexes you?" "And you fell in love with the priest who used to teach us scripture at school--so much for you, since you've such a spiteful memory. Ha ha ha!" She laughed viciously and went off into a fit of coughing. "Ah, you've not forgotten the priest then..." said Varvara Petrovna, looking at her vindictively. Her face turned green. Praskovya Ivanovna suddenly assumed a dignified air.