Your point - their village.
Pasha: The private life is dead - for a man with any manhood.
Zhivago: I saw some of your 'manhood' on the way at a place called Minsk.
Pasha: They were selling horses to the Whites.
Zhivago: It seems you've burnt the wrong village.
Pasha: They always say that, and what does it matter? A village betrays us, a village is burned. The point's made.
Zhivago: Your point - their village.