"You're alone; I'm glad; I can't endure your friends.

How you do smoke! Heavens, what an atmosphere! You haven't finished your morning tea and it's nearly twelve o'clock.

It's your idea of bliss--disorder! You take pleasure in dirt.
What's that torn paper on the floor?
Nastasya, Nastasya! What is your Nastasya about?
Open the window, the casement, the doors, fling everything wide open.

And we'll go into the drawing-room.

I've come to you on a matter of importance.