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Updated: May 12, 2025
"I, Alexey Kirillov," Pyotr Stepanoviteh dictated firmly and peremptorily, bending over Kirillov's shoulder and following every letter which the latter formed with a hand trembling with excitement, "I, Kirillov, declare that to-day, the th October, at about eight o'clock in the evening, I killed the student Shatov in the park for turning traitor and giving information of the manifestoes and of Fedka, who has been lodging with us for ten days in Filipov's house.
I don't want penitence and I don't want it for the police!" "No, of course, there's rid need of it, damn the police! Write, if you are in earnest!" Pyotr Stepanoviteh cried hysterically. "Stay! I want to put at the top a face with the tongue out." "Ech, what nonsense," cried Pyotr Stepanoviteh crossly, "you can express all that without the drawing, by the tone." "By the tone? That's true.
That's all I can do to prove in the highest point my independence and my new terrible freedom. For it is very terrible. I am killing myself to prove my independence and my new terrible freedom." His face was unnaturally pale, and there was a terribly heavy look in his eyes. He was like a man in delirium. Pyotr Stepanoviteh thought he would drop on to the floor. "Give me the pen!"
Pyotr Stepanoviteh jumped up from his seat and instantly handed him an inkstand and paper, and began dictating, seizing the moment, quivering with anxiety. "I, Alexey Kirillov, declare..." "Stay; I won't! To whom am I declaring it?" Kirillov was shaking as though he were in a fever.
Erkel was absolutely silent and did nothing but order the tea, which he brought from his landladies in glasses on a tray, not bringing in the samovar nor allowing the servant to enter. Pyotr Stepanoviteh did not turn up till half-past eight. With rapid steps he went up to the circular table before the sofa round which the company were seated; he kept his cap in his hand and refused tea.
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