is absolutely nothing to do with you and no
concern of yours."

"No concern of mine!" cried the captain. "What about me then?"

"Well, certainly you won't come into my house."

"But, you know, I'm a relation."

"One does one's best to escape from such relations. Why should I go on
giving you money then? Judge for yourself."

"Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, this is impossible.
You will think better of it, perhaps? You don't want to lay hands
upon.... What will people think? What will the world say?"

"Much I care for your world. I married your sister when the fancy took
me, after a drunken dinner, for a bet, and now I'll make it public...
since that amuses me now."

He said this with a peculiar irritability, so that Lebyadkin began with
horror to believe him.

"But me, me? What about me? I'm what matters most!... Perhaps you're
joking, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch?"

"No, I'm not joking."

"As you will, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, but I don't believe you.... Then
I'll take proceedings."

"You're fearfully stupid, captain."

"Maybe, but this is all that's left me," said the captain, losing his
head completely. "In old days we used to get free quarters, anyway, for
the work she did in the 'corners.' But what will happen now if you throw
me over altogether?"

"But you want to go to Petersburg to try a new career. By the way, is it
true what I hear, that you mean to go and give information, in the hope
of obtaining a pardon, by betraying all the others?"

The captain stood gaping with wide-open eyes, and made no answer.

"Listen, captain," Stavrogin began suddenly, with great earnestness,
bending down to the table. Until then he had been talking, as it were,
ambiguously, so that Lebyadkin, who had wide experience in playing the
part of buffoon, was up to the last moment a trifle uncertain whether
his patron were really angry or simply putting it on; whether he really
had the wild intention of making his marriage public, or whether he
were only playing. Now Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch's stern expression was so
convincing that a shiver ran down the captain's back.

"Listen, and tell the truth, Lebyadkin. Have you betrayed anything yet,
or not? Have you succeeded in doing anything really? Have you sent a
letter to somebody in your foolishness?"

"No, I haven't... and I haven't thought of doing it," said the captain,
looking fixedly at him.

"That's a lie, that you haven't thought of doing it. That