"I will tell you later!" answered the officer with spiteful civility,
and turning to Vlasova, he shouted:
"Say, can you read or write?"
"No!" answered Pavel.
"I didn't ask you!" said the officer sternly, and repeated: "Say,
old woman, can you read or write?"
The mother involuntarily gave way to a feeling of hatred for the
man. She was seized with a sudden fit of trembling, as if she had
jumped into cold water. She straightened herself, her scar turned
purple, and her brow drooped low.
"Don't shout!" she said, flinging out her hand toward him. "You
are a young man still; you don't know misery or sorrow----"
"Calm yourself, mother!" Pavel intervened.
"In this business, mother, you've got to take your heart between
your teeth and hold it there tight," said the Little Russian.
"Wait a moment, Pasha!" cried the mother, rushing to the table and
then addressing the officer: "Why do you snatch people away thus?"
"That does not concern you. Silence!" shouted the officer, rising.
"Bring in the prisoner Vyesovshchikov!" he commanded, and began
to read aloud a document which he raised to his face.
Nikolay was brought into the room.
"Hats off!" shouted the officer, interrupting his reading.
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