And they started one of those discussions in which words were used
that were unintelligible to the mother. The dinner was already at
an end, but they still continued a vehement debate, flinging at each
other veritable rattling hailstones of big words. Sometimes their
language was simpler:
"We must keep straight on our path, turning neither to the right
nor to the left!" Pavel asserted firmly.
"And run headlong into millions of people who will regard us as
their enemies!"
"You can't avoid that!"
"And what, my dear sir, becomes of your enlightenment?"
The mother listened to the dispute, and understood that Pavel did
not care for the peasants, but that the Little Russian stood up for
them, and tried to show that the peasants, too, must be taught to
comprehend the good. She understood Andrey better, and he seemed to
her to be in the right; but every time he spoke she waited with
strained ears and bated breath for her son's answer to find out
whether the Little Russian had offended Pavel. But although they
shouted at the top of their voices, they gave each other no offense.
Occasionally the mother asked:
"Is it so, Pavel?"
And he answered with a smile:
"Yes, it's so.
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