The latter looked at him in amazement but did not answer.
Kirillov's last words perplexed Pyotr Stepanovitch extremely; he had not time yet to discover their meaning, but even while he was on the stairs of Shatov's lodging he tried to remove all trace of annoyance and to assume an amiable expression.

Shatov was at home and rather unwell.

He was lying on his bed, though dressed.
"What bad luck!" Pyotr Stepanovitch cried out in the doorway.

"Are you really ill ?" The amiable expression of his face suddenly vanished; there was a gleam of spite in his eyes.
"Not at all." Shatov jumped up nervously.

"I am not ill at all...