Vasily Samoylov!"
Pressing his lips together firmly the Little Russian dropped down
lazily on the bench, and Samoylov arose alongside of him, shaking
his curly hair.
"The prosecuting attorney called my comrades and me 'savages,'
'enemies of civilization'----"
"You must speak only about that which pertains to your case."
"This pertains to the case. There's nothing which does not pertain
to honest men, and I ask you not to interrupt me. I ask you what
sort of a thing is your civilization?"
"We are not here for discussions with you. To the point!" said
the old judge, showing his teeth.
Andrey's demeanor had evidently changed the conduct of the judges;
his words seemed to have wiped something away from them. Stains
appeared on their gray faces. Cold, green sparks burned in their
eyes. Pavel's speech had excited but subdued them; it restrained
their agitation by its force, which involuntarily inspired respect.
The Little Russian broke away this restraint and easily bared what
lay underneath. They looked at Samoylov, and whispered to one
another with strange, wry faces. They also began to move extremely
quickly for them. They gave the impression of desiring to seize
him and howl while torturing his body with voluptuous ecstasy.
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