“I want to speak to you alone . . .” he said mysteriously to his cousin.

They went into the study.  The lieutenant shut the door, and he paced for a long time up and down before he began to speak.

“Something’s happened, my dear fellow,” he began, “that I don’t know how to tell you about.  You wouldn’t believe it . . .”

And blushing, faltering, not looking at his cousin, he told what had happened with the IOUs.  Kryukov, standing with his feet wide apart and his head bent, listened and frowned.

“Are you joking?” he asked.

“How the devil could I be joking?  It’s no joking matter!”

“I don’t understand!” muttered Kryukov, turning crimson and flinging up his hands.  “It’s positively . . . immoral on your part.  Before your very eyes a hussy is up to the devil knows what, a serious crime, plays a nasty trick, and you go and kiss her!”

“But I can’t understand myself how it happened!” whispered the lieutenant, blinking guiltily.  “Upon my honour, I don’t understand it!  It’s the first time in my life I’ve come across such a monster!  It’s not her beauty that does for you, not her mind, but that . . . you understand . . . insolence, cynicism. . . .”

“Insolence, cynicism . . . it’s unclean!  If you’ve such a longing for insolence and cynicism, you might have picked a sow out of the mire and have devoured her alive.  It would have been cheaper, anyway!  Instead of two thousand three hundred!”

“You do express yourself elegantly!” said the lieutenant, frowning.  “I’ll pay you back the two thousand three hundred!”

“I know you’ll pay it back, but it’s not a question of money!  Damn the money!  What revolts me is your being such a limp rag . . . such filthy feebleness!  And engaged!  With a fiancee!”

“Don’t speak of it . . .” said the lieutenant, blushing.  “I loathe myself as it is.  I should like to sink into the earth.  It’s sickening and vexatious that I shall have to bother my aunt for that five thousand. . . .”

Kryukov continued for some time longer expressing his indignation and grumbling, then, as he grew calmer, he sat down on the sofa and began to jeer at his cousin.

“You young officers!” he said with contemptuous irony.  “Nice bridegrooms.”

Suddenly he leapt up as though he had been stung, stamped his foot, and ran about the study.

“No, I’m not going to leave it like that!” he said, shaking his fist.  “I will have those IOUs, I will!  I’ll give it her!  One doesn’t beat women, but I’ll break every bone in her body. . . .  I’ll pound her to a jelly!  I’m not a lieutenant!  You won’t touch me with insolence or cynicism!  No-o-o, damn her!  Mishka!” he shouted, “run and tell them to get the racing droshky out for me!”

Kryukov dressed rapidly, and, without heeding the agitated lieutenant, got into the droshky, and with a wave of his hand resolutely raced off to Susanna Moiseyevna.  For a long time the lieutenant gazed out of window at the clouds of dust that rolled after his cousin’s droshky, stretched, yawned, and went to his own room.  A quarter of an hour later he was sound asleep.