"I'm in no laughing mood now, madam. Why have you drawn my daughter into your scandals in the face of the whole town? That's what I've come about." "My scandals?" Varvara Petrovna drew herself up menacingly. "Maman, I entreat you too, to restrain yourself," Lizaveta Nikolaevna brought out suddenly. "What's that you say?" The maman was on the point of breaking into a squeal again, but catching her daughter's flashing eye, she subsided suddenly. "How could you talk about scandal, maman?" cried Liza, flushing red. "I came of my own accord with Yulia Mihailovna's permission, because I wanted to learn this unhappy woman's story and to be of use to her." "This unhappy woman's story!" Praskovya Ivanovna drawled with a spiteful laugh. "Is it your place to mix yourself up with such 'stories.' Ach, enough of your tyrannising!" She turned furiously to Varvara Petrovna. "I don't know whether it's true or not, they say you keep the whole town in order, but it seems your turn has come at last." Varvara Petrovna sat straight as an arrow ready to fly from the bow. For ten seconds she looked sternly and immovably at Praskovya Ivanovna. "Well, Praskovya, you must thank God that all here present are our friends," she said at last with ominous composure. "You've said a great deal better unsaid." "But I'm not so much afraid of what the world will say, my lady, as some people. It's you who, under a show of pride, are trembling at what people will say. And as for all here being your friends, it's better for you than if strangers had been listening." "Have you grown wiser during this last week?" "It's not that I've grown wiser, but simply that the truth has come out this week." "What truth has come out this week? Listen, Praskovya Ivanovna, don't irritate me. Explain to me this minute, I beg you as a favour, what truth has come out and what do you mean by that?" "Why there it is, sitting before you!" and Praskovya Ivanovna suddenly pointed at Marya Timofyevna with that desperate determination which takes no heed of consequences, if only it can make an impression at the moment. Marya Timofyevna, who had watched her all the time with light-hearted curiosity, laughed exultingly at the sight of the wrathful guest's finger pointed impetuously at her, and wriggled gleefully in her easy chair. "God Almighty have mercy on us, they've all gone crazy!" exclaimed Varvara Petrovna, and turning pale she sank back in her chair. She turned so pale that it caused some commotion. Stepan Trofimovitch was the first to rush up to her. I drew near also; even Liza got up from her seat, though she did not come forward. But the most alarmed of all was Praskovya Ivanovna herself. She uttered a scream, got up as far as she could and almost wailed in a lachrymose voice: "Varvara Petrovna, dear, forgive me for my wicked foolishness! Give her some water, somebody."