This is logic; but
I go against logic for once. I do not need your logic now. I know
that their blood can bring no results, I know that their blood is
barren, fruitless! Truth grows well only on the soil irrigated with
the copious rain of our own blood, and their putrid blood goes to
waste, without a trace left. I know it! But I take the sin upon
myself. I'll kill, if I see a need for it! I speak only for myself,
mind you. My crime dies with me. It will not remain a blot upon
the future. It will sully no one but myself--no one but myself."
He walked to and fro in the room, waving his hands in front of him,
as if he were cutting something in the air out of his way. The
mother looked at him with an expression of melancholy and alarm.
She felt as though something had hit him; and that he was pained.
The dangerous thoughts about murder left her. If Vyesovshchikov
had not killed Isay, none of Pavel's comrades could have done the
deed. Pavel listened to the Little Russian with drooping head, and
Andrey stubbornly continued in a forceful tone:
"In your forward march it sometimes chances that you must go against
your very own self. You must be able to give up everything--your
heart and all.
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