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Updated: June 10, 2025
Hasn't she received some news of Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, something unexpected?" "I don't know... of news of any sort... I haven't seen her for some days, but... but I must say..." lisped Stepan Trofimovitch, evidently hardly able to think clearly, "but I must say, Liputin, that if it was said to you in confidence, and here you're telling it before every one..." "Absolutely in confidence!
Pyotr Stepanovitch suddenly remembered how he had lately splashed through the mud to keep pace with Stavrogin, who had walked, as he was doing now, taking up the whole pavement. He recalled the whole scene, and rage choked him. But Liputin, too, was choking with resentment. Pyotr Stepanovitch might treat the others as he liked, but him!
All the members of our circle had been officially informed from the beginning that Stepan Trofimovitch would see nobody for a time, and begged them to leave him quite alone. He insisted on sending round a circular notice to this effect, though I tried to dissuade him. Liputin was the only one I did not have time to visit, and I kept putting it off to tell the real truth I was afraid to go to him.
And isn't this too borrowing from the French?" he laughed, tapping the book with his finger. "No, that's not taken from the French," Liputin cried with positive fury, jumping up from his chair. "That is taken from the universal language of humanity, not simply from the French. From the language of the universal social republic and harmony of mankind, let me tell you! Not simply from the French!"
"I should prefer not to speak of it," answered Alexey Nilitch, suddenly raising his head, and looking at him with flashing eyes. "I wish to contest your right to do this, Liputin. You've no right to drag me into this. I did not give my whole opinion at all. Though I knew Nikolay Stavrogin in Petersburg that was long ago, and though I've met him since I know him very little.
However, won't you read this and pass it to the others, simply as a fact of interest?" He pulled out of his pocket Lebyadkin's anonymous letter to Lembke and handed it to Liputin. The latter read it, was evidently surprised, and passed it thoughtfully to his neighbour; the letter quickly went the round. "Is that really Lebyadkin's handwriting?" observed Shigalov.
You needn't worry yourselves, he has no prejudices; he'll sign anything." There were expressions of doubt. It sounded a fantastic story. But they had all heard more or less about Kirillov; Liputin more than all. "He may change his mind and not want to," said Shigalov; "he is a madman anyway, so he is not much to build upon."
"I don't want your money, I don't want it I'll be here directly, in one instant. I can manage without the revolver...." And he rushed straight to Kirillov's. This was probably two hours before the visit of Pyotr Stepanovitch and Liputin to Kirillov.
On Friday morning, Pyotr Stepanovitch went off somewhere in the neighbourhood, and remained away till Monday. I heard of his departure from Liputin, and in the course of conversation I learned that the Lebyadkins, brother and sister, had moved to the riverside quarter.
The whole hall became instantly still, all looks were turned to him, some with positive alarm. There was no denying, he knew how to secure their interest from the first word. Heads were thrust out from behind the scenes; Liputin and Lyamshin listened greedily. Yulia Mihailovna waved to me again. "Stop him, whatever happens, stop him," she whispered in agitation.
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