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Updated: June 23, 2025
Sipiagin went up to his wife and took her by the arm, between the elbow and wrist. "Il faut vous armer de courage, ma chere. Your brother has been arrested." "My brother? Sergai? What for?" "He has been preaching socialism to the peasants." They seized him and gave him up. He is now under arrest in the town." "Madman! But who told you?" "This Mr... Mr... what's his name? Mr.
Nejdanov unfolded and read the letter. It was a semi-official circular in which Sergai Markelov was introduced as one of "us," and absolutely trustworthy; then followed some advice about the urgent necessity of united action in the propaganda of their well-known principles. The circular was addressed to Nejdanov, as being a person worthy of confidence.
Sipiagin introduced Nejdanov to him as his beaufrere'a, Valentina Mihailovna's brother Sergai Mihailovitch Markelov. "I hope you will get to know each other and be friends, gentlemen," Sipiagin exclaimed with the amiable, stately, though absent-minded smile characteristic of him.
I dare say it's easy for me to talk like that. I am ugly, while you are beautiful. It must be so much harder for you." It will upset everything there. Leave them alone! They are both happy... Don't interfere with them! I should be glad not to interfere, but what shall I do about the letter?" "Give it to him by all means," Mariana put in. "How awfully good Sergai Mihailovitch is!
"Yes." "Well, I suppose you can make room for me. I shall have finished my work in about an hour, and will be quite free. We can talk things over thoroughly. You are also free, are you not?" he asked, turning to Nejdanov. "Until the day after tomorrow." "That's all right. We can stay the night at your place, Sergai Mihailovitch, I suppose? "Of course you may!" "Good. I shall be ready in a minute.
But with our spiritual ... but that is another matter. We may see it in that way now; there is nothing to hinder us." "Then why do you " "What?" "Why do you follow this road?" "Because there is no other. I mean that my aims are the same as Markelov's but our paths are different." "Poor Sergai Mihailovitch!" Mariana exclaimed sadly. Solomin passed his hand cautiously over hers.
"Drink will be the ruin of the Russian!" Markelov remarked gloomily. "It's from grief, Sergai Mihailovitch," the coachman said without turning round. He ceased whistling on passing each tavern and seemed to sink into his own thoughts. "Go on! Go on!" Markelov shouted angrily, vigorously tugging at his own coat collar.
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