"
The mother understood, with her ready feelings, what agony this man
must be undergoing, but his pain awoke no sympathetic response in her.
"Well, of course, if that's the case, then it's better for you to
go," she said, in order not to offend him by silence.
Andrey came in from the kitchen, and said, smiling:
"Well, are you sermonizing, eh?"
The mother rose and walked away, saying:
"I'm going to get something to eat."
Vyesovshchikov looked at the Little Russian fixedly and suddenly declared:
"I think that some people ought to be killed off!"
"Oho! And pray what for?" asked the Little Russian calmly.
"So they cease to be."
"Ahem! And have you the right to make corpses out of living people?"
"Yes, I have."
"Where did you get it from?"
"The people themselves gave it to me."
The Little Russian stood in the middle of the room, tall and spare,
swaying on his legs, with his hands thrust in his pockets, and
looked down on Nikolay. Nikolay sat firmly in his chair, enveloped
in clouds of smoke, with red spots on his face showing through.
"The people gave it to me!" he repeated clenching his fist. "If
they kick me I have the right to strike them and punch their eyes
out! Don't touch me, and I won't touch you! Let me live as I
please, and I'll live in peace and not touch anybody.
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