Pavel.'"
The mother straightened herself easily, and proudly tossed her head.
"Well, what is there to tell me?" she said firmly. "I understand--
they want to go straight at the authorities again--'there! condemn
the truth!'"
Nikolay quickly turned aside, took out his handkerchief, blew his
nose aloud, and mumbled: "I've caught a cold, you see!" Covering
his eyes with his hands, under the pretext of adjusting his glasses,
he paced up and down the room, and said: "We shouldn't have been
successful anyway."
"Never mind; let the trial come off!" said the mother frowning.
"Here, I've received a letter from a comrade in St. Petersburg----"
"He can escape from Siberia, too, can't he?"
"Of course! The comrade writes: 'The trial is appointed for the
near future; the sentence is certain--exile for everybody!' You
see, these petty cheats convert their court into the most trivial
comedy. You understand? Sentence is pronounced in St. Petersburg
before the trial."
"Stop!" the mother said resolutely. "You needn't comfort me or
explain to me. Pasha won't do what isn't right--he won't torture
himself for nothing." She paused to catch breath. "Nor will he
torture others, and he loves me, yes.
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