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"Let us go and see Soloveitchik," suggested Sanine. "Oh! no!" "Why not?" "I don't like him. He is such a worm." Sanine shrugged his shoulders. "Not worse than others. Come along." "All right," said Ivanoff, who always agreed to anything that Sanine proposed. So they both went along the street together. Soloveitchik, however, was not at home.
When I came to examine his life impartially, I found it astonishingly poor and miserable." "Oh! how can you say that?" cried Soloveitchik. "How was it possible for you to estimate the wealth of his spiritual emotions?" "Such emotions were very monotonous.
Lit up by bright feminine toilettes, the dark throng moved now in the direction of the shady gardens, and now towards the main entrance of massive stone. On entering the garden arm-in-arm, Sanine and Ivanoff instantly encountered Soloveitchik who was walking pensively along, his hands behind his back, and his eyes on the ground. "We have just been to your place," said Sanine.
That big chap was the only one I liked." "A lot you understand when clever folk of that sort talk together!" replied Koudriavji testily, twisting his neck about as if he were being throttled. Pistzoff whistled mockingly in lieu of answer. Soloveitchik stood at the door for some time, looking up to the starless sky and rubbing his thin fingers.
"Soloveitchik, are your workmen coming?" asked Dubova. "Yes, of course they are!" replied Soloveitchik, jumping up as if he had been stung. "We have already sent to fetch them." "Soloveitchik, don't shout like that!" exclaimed Goschienko. "Here they are!" said Schafroff, who was listening to Goschienko's words with almost reverent attention.
"Well, sirs, I think we are all here, now," exclaimed Soloveitchik, trying to speak in a loud, cheery way with his feeble, unsteady voice, and gesticulating in ludicrous fashion. "I beg your pardon, Yourii Nicolaijevitch; I seem to be always pushing against you," he said, laughing, as he lurched forward in an endeavour to be polite. Yourii good-humouredly squeezed his arm.
"Oh! you cannot imagine how it distresses me to hear this!" he exclaimed. "Really, Soloveitchik, you're quite hysterical," said Sanine, in surprise. "I have not told you anything extraordinary. Possibly the subject is, to you, a painful one?" "Oh! most painful. I am always thinking, thinking, till my head seems as if it would burst. Was all that really an error, nothing more?
"Oh! do, please, hear me out," interrupted Soloveitchik, with a pleading gesture. "It might have been better " "For Sarudine, certainly," "No, for you, too; for you, too." "Oh! Soloveitchik," replied Sanine, with a touch of annoyance, "a truce to that silly old notion about moral victory; and a false notion, too.
"Yes, yes, I am going to move it directly!" replied Soloveitchik, as he hurriedly caught hold of the edge of the table. "Mind the lamp!" cried Dubova. "That's not the way to move it!" exclaimed the student, slapping his knee. "Let me help you," said Sanine. "Thank you! Please!" replied Soloveitchik eagerly.
"To live on is impossible," he thought, "for that would mean the entire effacement of the past. I should have to begin a new life, to become quite a different man, and that I cannot do!" His head fell forward on the table, and in the weird, flickering candlelight he lay there, motionless. On that same evening Sanine went to see Soloveitchik.
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