What’s the good of a telegram? It frightened my aunt so that she sent it back to the office unopened, and there it’s been ever since! It’s only thanks to Konief that I heard at all; he wrote me all about it. He says my brother cut off the gold tassels from my father’s coffin, at night ‘because they’re worth a lot of money!’ says he. Why, I can get him sent off to Siberia for that alone, if I like; it’s sacrilege.
Here, you — scarecrow!” he added, addressing the clerk at his side, “is it sacrilege or not, by law?”
“Sacrilege, certainly — certainly sacrilege,” said the latter.
“And it’s Siberia for sacrilege, isn’t it?”