"What I choose."

"What do you choose?"

"The same as before."

"How am I to understand that? Does that mean that you are in the same
mind?"

"Yes. Only there's no agreement and never has been, and I have not bound
myself in any way. I could do as I like and I can still do as I like."

Kirillov explained himself curtly and contemptuously.

"I agree, I agree; be as free as you like if you don't change your
mind." Pyotr Stepanovitch sat down again with a satisfied air. "You are
angry over a word. You've become very irritable of late; that's why
I've avoided coming to see you, I was quite sure, though, you would be
loyal."

"I dislike you very much, but you can be perfectly sure--though I don't
regard it as loyalty and disloyalty."

"But do you know" (Pyotr Stepanovitch was startled again) "we must talk
things over thoroughly again so as not to get in a muddle. The business
needs accuracy, and you keep giving me such shocks. Will you let me
speak?"

"Speak," snapped Kirillov, looking away.

"You made up your mind long ago to take your life... I mean, you had the
idea in your mind. Is that the right expression? Is there any mistake
about that?"

"I have the same idea still."

"Excellent. Take note that no one has forced it on you."

"Rather not; what nonsense you talk."

"I dare say I express it very stupidly. Of course, it would be very
stupid to force anybody to it. I'll go on. You were a member of the
society before its organisation was changed, and confessed it to one of
the members."

"I didn't confess it, I simply said so."

"Quite so. And it would be absurd to confess such a thing. What a
confession! You simply said so. Excellent."

"No, it's not excellent, for you are being tedious. I am not obliged to
give you any account of myself and you can't understand my ideas. I want
to put an end to my life, because that's my idea, because I don't want
to be afraid of death, because... because there's no need for you to
know. What do you want? Would you like tea? It's cold. Let me get you
another glass."

Pyotr Stepanovitch actually had taken up the teapot and was looking for
an empty glass. Kirillov went to the cupboard and brought a clean glass.

"I've just had lunch at Karmazinov's," observed his visitor, "then
I listened to him talking, and perspired and got into a sweat again
running here. I am fearfully thirsty."

"Drink. Cold tea is good."

Kirillov sat down on his chair again and again f