His smiles were wrung from him unwillingly, and two thin wrinkles
were drawn from his nostrils to the corners of his lips. He talked
less about everyday matters; on the other hand, he was more frequently
enkindled with a passionate fire; and he intoxicated his listeners
with his ecstatic words about the future, about the bright, beautiful
holiday, when they would celebrate the triumph of freedom and reason.
Listening to his words, the mother felt that he had gone further than
anybody else toward the great, glorious day, and that he saw the joys
of that future more vividly than the rest. When the investigations of
Isay's murder ceased, he said in disgust and smiling sadly:
"It's not only the people they treat like trash, but even the very
men whom they set on the people like dogs. They have no concern for
their faithful Judases, they care only for their shekels--only for
them." And after a sullen silence, he added: "And I pity that man
the more I think of him. I didn't intend to kill him--didn't want to!"
"Enough, Andrey," said Pavel severely.
"You happened to knock against something rotten, and it fell to
pieces," added the mother in a low voice.
"You're right--but that's no consolation.
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