excuse the crudity of the expression—it's all perfect rubbish!'
Markelov drew himself up.
'In the first place,' he began in a wrathful voice, 'I don't at all share your opinion about those letters. I think them very remarkable . . . and conscientious! And secondly, Kislyakov toils and slaves, and, what 's more, he believes; he believes in our cause, he believes in revolution! I must tell you one thing, Alexey Dmitrievitch, I notice that you—you are very lukewarm in our cause; you don't believe in it!'
'What makes you think that?' Nezhdanov articulated slowly.
'What? Why, every word you say, your whole behaviour! To-day at Golushkin's, who was it said he didn't see what elements we could depend on? You! Who asked us to point to any? You! And when that friend of yours, that grinning ape and buffoon, Mr. Paklin, began declaring, with eyes upturned to heaven, that not one of us was capable of sacrifice, who was it backed him up, who was it nodded his head in approval? Wasn't that you? Say what you please of yourself, and think of yourself what you know . . . that 's your affair . . . but I know of people who are capable of renouncing everything that makes life sweet, even the bliss of love, to be true to their convictions, not to betray
3
