Saying this, he rose and closed the desk, as if he wished to intimate that the interview was over. Laskowicz glared at him with eyes blazing with hatred. He did not seek any broil, but anticipating one, he stood before Krzycki, bent like a bow. Meanwhile nothing approaching an altercation occurred and the revolver, which he had ready for a certain contingency, was of no service to him. There was no reference even to the letter, though that was indited in harsh and rude terms. Nevertheless there was something offensive in the cold tones in which Krzycki spoke, something insulting in the eagerness with which he accepted his offer of departure. To Laskowicz, who viewed everything from his own standpoint, it seemed that the icy conversation accentuated something else, namely, the attitude of a wealthy man who owned Jastrzeb, a desk filled with money, horses, and equipages, towards a poor, homeless fellow. But it did not occur to him at that moment that he on his part had done nothing to improve their relations, but on the contrary had done a great deal to make them worse, and that from the time of his arrival he had shut himself, like a turtle in a shell, in a doctrine inimical to these people. Everything conduced to stir the bile within him to such a degree that he actually regretted that the matter did not end in a personal encounter. But as in the words of Krzycki there was nothing which gave him a pretext for one, he abruptly left the room without any leave-taking and with redoubled rancor. Ladislaus rang to have the horses ready within an hour, and as it happened to be Friday, he ordered the gardener to catch some fish; after which he began to consider whether the affair with Laskowicz had terminated in a desirable way. He was pleased and displeased with himself. He felt a certain satisfaction and even pride in the fact that he could be laconic and firm, cold but polite, and that he did not stoop to any ruffianly dispute. But at the same time, notwithstanding his pride, a certain disrelish remained, for which he could not account as he was not sufficiently developed psychologically. He kept repeating to himself that such scenes are always disagreeable, and so was the whole business. In reality there was another reason for it. His whole behavior, which appeared to him so temperate, sensible, and well-nigh diplomatic, did not emanate from his temperament, but in direct opposition to his not too deep, but open and impulsive nature. If he had acted in keeping with it, he either would have come to blows with the young student or else would have said something like this: "You have strewn our path with thorns and have upset the minds of our people, but since you are leaving, give me your hand and may you fare well." The one or the other act would have been more consistent with his character, and he would not have experienced that jarring which he could not understand, but felt none the less.