'From whom?'
'From . . . you know . . . Vassily Nikolaevitch. And, oh yes, we must wait too till Ostrodumov comes back.'
Marianna looked inquiringly at Nezhdanov.
'Tell me, did you ever see Vassily Nikolaevitch.'
'I have seen him twice . . . just a glimpse, that was all.'
'What is he?. . . a remarkable man?'
'How shall I tell you? He's the head now, and controls everything. We couldn't do without discipline in our work; obedience is essential.' ('And that's all rot,' was his inward comment.)
'What's he like to look at?'
'Oh, stumpy, heavy, dark.. . . High cheek-bones, like a Kalmik . . . a coarse face. Only he has very keen, bright eyes.'
'And how does he talk?'
'He does not talk, so much as command.'
'Why was he made head?'
'Oh, he's a man of character. He wouldn't stick at anything. If necessary he 'd kill any one. And so he's feared.'
'And what's Solomin like?' inquired Marianna, after a short pause.
'Solomin's not handsome either; only he has a nice, simple, honest face. You see faces
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