wrong. The merchant among us so far is a brigand; he uses his own private property for brigandage.. . . What's he to do? He's exploited and he exploits. As for the people———'
'The people?' queried Kallomyetsev in high falsetto.
'The people . . . are asleep.'
'And you would wake them?'
'That wouldn't be amiss.'
'Aha! aha! so that's what———'
'Excuse me, excuse me,' Sipyagin pronounced imperiously. He realised that the instant had come to draw the line, so to speak . . . to close the discussion. And he drew the line! He closed the discussion! With a wave of his right hand from the wrist, while his elbow remained propped on the table, he delivered a long and detailed speech. On one side he commended the conservatives, on the other approved of the liberals, awarding some preference to the latter, reckoning himself among their number; he extolled the people, but referred to some of their weak points; expressed complete confidence in the government, but asked himself whether all subordinate officials were fully carrying out its benevolent designs. He recognised the service and the dignity of literature, but de-
57
