"Ah ha! You're also trapped." These were the words, accompanied

with boisterous laughter, with which Peter Gerasimovitch greeted

Nekhludoff. "Have you not managed to get out of it?"

"I never meant to get out of it," replied Nekhludoff, gloomily,

and in a tone of severity.

"Well, I call this being public spirited. But just wait until you

get hungry or sleepy; you'll sing to another tune then."

"This son of a priest will be saying 'thou' [in Russian, as in

many other languages, "thou" is used generally among people very

familiar with each other, or by superiors to inferiors] to me

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next," thought Nekhludoff, and walked away, with such a look of

sadness on his face, as might have been natural if he had just

heard of the death of all his relations. He came up to a group

that had formed itself round a clean-shaven, tall, dignified man,

who was recounting something with great animation. This man was

talking about the trial going on in the Civil Court as of a case

well known to himself, mentioning the judges and a celebrated

advocate by name. He was saying that it seemed wonderful how the

celebrated advocate had managed to give such a clever turn to the

affair that an old lady, though she had the right on her side,

would have to pay a large sum to her opponent. "The advocate is a

genius," he said.

The listeners heard it all with respectful attention, and several

of them tried to put in a word, but the man interrupted them, as

if he alone knew all about it.

Though Nekhludoff had arrived late, he had to wait a long time.

One of the members of the Court had not yet come, and everybody

was kept waiting.




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