Strange as it may appear, he had expected much better success for his story. These little errors of taste on Ferdishenko’s part occurred very frequently. Nastasia trembled with rage, and looked fixedly at him, whereupon he relapsed into alarmed silence. He realized that he had gone a little too far.
“Had we not better end this game?” asked Totski.
“It’s my turn, but I plead exemption,” said Ptitsin.
“You don’t care to oblige us?” asked Nastasia.
“I cannot, I assure you. I confess I do not understand how anyone can play this game.”
“Then, general, it’s your turn,” continued