BoththelawyersrememberedGridyenko'scaseperfectly, andsolaidasideMitya'scap, anddecidedthatallhisclothesmustbemorethoroughlyexaminedlater.
"Excuseme," criedNikolayParfenovitch, suddenly, noticingthattherightcuffofMitya'sshirtwasturnedin, andcoveredwithblood, "excuseme, what'sthat, blood?"
"Yes," Mityajerkedout.
"Thatis, whatblood?...andwhyisthecuffturnedin?"
MityatoldhimhowhehadgotthesleevestainedwithbloodlookingafterGrigory, andhadturneditinsidewhenhewaswashinghishandsatPerhotin's.
"Youmusttakeoffyourshirt, 'sveryimportantasmaterialevidence."
Mityaflushedredandflewintoarage.
"What, amItostaynaked?" heshouted.
"Don'."
"You'renotjoking? Isthatreallynecessary?" Mitya'seyesflashed.
"Weareinnomoodforjoking," answeredNikolayParfenovitchsternly.
"Well, ifImust—" mutteredMitya, andsittingdownonthebed, , whilehewasnaked, andstrangetosay, whenhewasundressedhefeltsomehowguiltyintheirpresence, andwasalmostreadytobelievehimselfthathewasinferiortothem, andthatnowtheyhadaperfectrighttodespisehim."Whenallareundressed, oneissomehownotashamed, butwhenone'stheonlyoneundressedandeverybodyislooking, it'sdegrading," hekeptrepeatingtohimself, againandagain."It'slikeadream, I'vesometimesdreamedofbeinginsuchdegradingpositions." , andsowerehisunderclothes, , , flat, crookednailontherightone, , atonceandintentionally, , himself.
"Wouldyouliketolookanywhereelseifyou'renotashamedto?"
"No, there'snoneedto, atpresent."
"Well, amItostaynakedlikethis?" headdedsavagely.
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