Not that THEY get many pricks.

I get them.

Damn them all, why don't I leave them alone?
They only grin and feel triumphant when they've insulted one and punched one in the wind.
"This Aaron will do just the same.

I like him, and he ought to like me.
And he'll be another Jim: he WILL like me, if he can knock the wind out of me.

A lot of little Stavrogins coming up to whisper affectionately, and biting one's ear.
"But anyhow I can soon see the last of this chap: and him the last of all the rest.