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Updated: June 11, 2025
Squeezing Virginsky from behind more and more tightly and convulsively, he went on shrieking without a pause, his mouth wide open and his eyes starting out of his head, keeping up a continual patter with his feet, as though he were beating a drum. Virginsky was so scared that he too screamed out like a madman, and with a ferocity, a vindictiveness that one could never have expected of Virginsky.
"Gentlemen," Virginsky went on, "answer verbally, are we a meeting or not?" "We are! We are!" was heard on all sides. "If so, there's no need to vote, that's enough. Are you satisfied, gentlemen? Is there any need to put it to the vote?" "No need no need, we understand." "Perhaps some one doesn't want it to be a meeting?" "No, no; we all want it." "But what does 'meeting' mean?" cried a voice.
"You're simply the golden mean which will get on anywhere in its own way." Liputin was offended. The story was told of Virginsky, and it was unhappily only too true, that before his wife had spent a year in lawful wedlock with him she announced that he was superseded and that she preferred Lebyadkin.
And after her very stupid and unpardonably open liaison on principle with Captain Lebyadkin, a notorious rogue, even the most indulgent of our ladies turned away from her with marked contempt. But Madame Virginsky accepted all this as though it were what she wanted.
Absorbed as they all were in their own ideas, they all looked at him in amazement it was such a surprise that he too could speak. "I am for the cause," Virginsky pronounced suddenly. Every one got up. It was decided to communicate once more and make final arrangements at midday on the morrow, though without meeting.
But Virginsky was quite unperturbed, as the major was "incapable of betraying them"; for in spite of his stupidity he had all his life been fond of dropping in wherever extreme Radicals met; he did not sympathise with their ideas himself, but was very fond of listening to them. What's more, he had even been compromised indeed.
He, too, was very silent, but he did not look at the ground; on the contrary, he scrutinised intently every speaker with his fixed, lustreless eyes, and listened to everything without the slightest emotion or surprise. Some of the visitors who had never seen him before stole thoughtful glances at him. I can't say whether Madame Virginsky knew anything about the existence of the quintet.
But that was long ago, before the advent of Shatov or Virginsky, when Stepan Trofimovitch was still living in the same house with Varvara Petrovna. For some time before the great day Stepan Trofimovitch fell into the habit of muttering to himself well-known, though rather far-fetched, lines which must have been written by some liberal landowner of the past: "The peasant with his axe is coming,
"And I maintain," he answered savagely, "that you are a child come from Petersburg to enlighten us all, though we know for ourselves the commandment 'honour thy father and thy mother, which you could not repeat correctly; and the fact that it's immoral every one in Russia knows from Byelinsky." "Are we ever to have an end of this?" Madame Virginsky said resolutely to her husband.
Pyotr Stepanovitch raised his lantern and examined them with unceremonious and insulting minuteness. "They mean to speak," flashed through his mind. "Isn't Lyamshin here?" he asked Virginsky. "Who said he was ill?" "I am here," responded Lyamshin, suddenly coming from behind a tree.
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