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Updated: June 19, 2025
And listen, Verhovensky, you are not one of the higher police, are you?" "Anyone who has a question like that in his mind doesn't utter it." "I understand, but we are by ourselves." "No, so far I am not one of the higher police. Enough, here we are. Compose your features, Stavrogin; I always do mine when I go in.
"It's impossible to answer like this.... I won't answer," muttered Stavrogin, who might well have got up and gone away, but who did not get up and go away. "I don't know either why evil is hateful and good is beautiful, but I know why the sense of that distinction is effaced and lost in people like the Stavrogins," Shatov persisted, trembling all over.
"You don't believe we shall make a revolution? We are going to make such an upheaval that everything will be uprooted from its foundation. Karmazinov is right that there is nothing to lay hold of. Karmazinov is very intelligent. Another ten such groups in different parts of Russia and I am safe." "Groups of fools like that?" broke reluctantly from Stavrogin.
"I did not kill them, and I was against it, but I knew they were going to be killed and I did not stop the murderers. Leave me, Liza," Stavrogin brought out, and he walked into the drawing-room. Liza hid her face in her hands and walked out of the house. Pyotr Stepanovitch was rushing after her, but at once 'hurried back and went into the drawing-room. "So that's your line? That's your line?
"Now you are bound to speak." Stavrogin positively stood still in the middle of the street in surprise, not far from a street lamp. Pyotr Stepanovitch faced his scrutiny calmly and defiantly. Stavrogin cursed and went on. "And are you going to speak?" he suddenly asked Pyotr Stepanovitch. "No, I am going to listen to you." "Damn you, you really are giving me an idea?" "What idea?"
The boy was at that time eight years old, and his frivolous father, General Stavrogin, was already living apart from Varvara Petrovna, so that the child grew up entirely in his mother's care. To do Stepan Trofimovitch justice, he knew how to win his pupil's heart. The whole secret of this lay in the fact that he was a child himself.
There was a vague, though well-authenticated rumour among us that Shatov's wife had at one time had a liaison with Nikolay Stavrogin, in Paris, and just about two years ago, that is when Shatov was in America. It is true that this was long after his wife had left him in Geneva. "If so, what possesses him now to bring his name forward and to lay stress on it?" I thought.
Marya Timofyevna Lebyadkin is my lawful wife, married to me four and a half years ago in Petersburg. I suppose the blow was on her account?" Shatov, utterly astounded, listened in silence. "I guessed, but did not believe it," he muttered at last, looking strangely at Stavrogin. "And you struck me?" Shatov flushed and muttered almost incoherently: "Because of your fall... your lie.
"You mustn't be ill for the job I've come about," Pyotr Stepanovitch began quickly and, as it were, peremptorily. "Allow me to sit down." I am coming with Nikolay Stavrogin. I would not, of course, have dragged you there, knowing your way of thinking at present... simply to save your being worried, not because we think you would betray us. But as things have turned out, you will have to go.
"Is that you, Alexey Yegorytch?" asked Stavrogin. "No, it's only I." Pyotr Stepanovitch thrust himself half in again. "How do you do, Lizaveta Nikolaevna? Good morning, anyway. I guessed I should find you both in this room. I have come for one moment literally, Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch. I wag anxious to have a couple of words with you at all costs absolutely necessary... only a few words!"
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