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Updated: May 3, 2025
I was looking at him; not a muscle of his face moved in the least. And yet, even at the time, I did not suspect him of insensibility. It was a sort of rapt thoughtfulness. Then he stirred slightly. "You are going, Kirylo Sidorovitch?" she asked. "I! Going? Where?
But the principle of revolt is a physical intoxication, a sort of hysteria which must be kept away from the masses. You agree to this without reserve, don't you? Because, you see, Kirylo Sidorovitch, abstention, reserve, in certain situations, come very near to political crime. The ancient Greeks understood that very well." Mr.
Razumov on his side of the table bowed slightly to the seated bureaucrat. "... To retire simply to retire," he finished with great resolution. He walked to the door, thinking, "Now he must show his hand. He must ring and have me arrested before I am out of the building, or he must let me go. And either way...." An unhurried voice said "Kirylo Sidorovitch." Razumov at the door turned his head.
"Come, Kirylo Sidorovitch what are you doing?" Razumov turned his head and looked at him in silence. He was not in the least disconcerted. Councillor Mikulin's arms were stretched out on the table before him and his body leaned forward a little with an effort of his dim gaze. "Was I actually going to clear out like this?" Razumov wondered at himself with an impassive countenance.
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