Samoylenko corrected. “And what is society to do about this?”
“Do? That’s society’s business. In my opinion, the most direct and reliable path is force.
Manu militari
* , she should be sent back to her husband, and if her husband won’t have her, then give her over to hard labor or some sort of correctional facility.”
“Oofff!” Samoylenko sighed. He was silent, then inquired quietly: “Some days ago you spoke of how those kinds of people, like Laevsky, must be annihilated … Tell me, if it were the case … for argument’s sake, that government or society entrusted you with the task of annihilating him, would you then … resolve the matter?”
“My hand would be steady.”
* By military aid.
IX
Arriving home, Laevsky and Nadezhda Fyodorovna entered their dark, stuffy, boring rooms. They were both silent. Laevsky lit a candle, as Nadezhda Fyodorovna sat down and, removing neither her manteau nor hat, cast her woeful, guilty eyes up at him.
He understood that she was awaiting an explanation from him; but for him to explain himself would have been boring, useless and exhausting, and there was a weight on his soul from having been unable to contain himself and speaking to her crudely. He accidentally touched the letter in his pocket that he’d intended to read to her every day and thought that if he were to show her this letter now it would deflect her attention in a new direction.
It’s time we determine what our relationship is
, he thought.
I’ll give it to her. Whatever will be, will be
.
He took out the letter and handed it to her.
“Read it. It concerns you.”
Having said this, he went into his study and lay in darkness on the divan without a pillow. Nadezhda Fyodorovna read the letter, and it seemed to her that the ceiling had dropped and the walls were closing in on her. It had suddenly become cramped, dark and frightful. She quickly crossed herself three times and began to utter:
“Grant peace, O Lord … Grant peace, O Lord …”
And she began to cry.
“Vanya!” she called out. “Ivan Andreich!”
There was no reply. Thinking that Laevsky had enteredthe room and was standing behind her chair, she sobbed like a baby, all the while saying:
“Why didn’t you tell me that he’d died sooner? I wouldn’t have gone on the picnic, wouldn’t have laughed so frightfully … Men uttered vulgarities at me. What a sin, what a sin! Save me, Vanya, save me … I’m losing my mind … I’m lost …”
Laevsky heard her sobs. He felt an unbearable lack of air, and his heart beat loudly. Filled with melancholy he rose, stood in the center of the room, groped around in the dark for the armchair near the table and sat down.
This is a prison …
, he thought.
I must leave … I can’t go on …
It was already too late to go play cards, there were no restaurants in the town. He lay down again and covered his ears, so as not to hear the sobbing, and suddenly remembered that he could go to Samoylenko’s. To avoid passing near Nadezhda Fyodorovna, he climbed out of the window into the garden, climbed through the small front garden and proceeded down the street. It was dark. Some sort of steamship had just arrived, judging from the lights, a large passenger liner … The anchor chain resounded. Offshore, a fast-moving little red light was heading in the direction of the liner. It was the customs boat at sail.
All the passengers are asleep in their cabins …
, thought Laevsky, envious of the strangers’ serenity.
The windows of Samoylenko’s house were open. Laevsky looked in one of them, then another. It was dark and quiet in the rooms.
“Alexander Davidich, as you sleeping?” he called out. “Alexander Davidich!”
Coughing was heard, and an alarmed cry:
“What the devil? Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Alexander Davidich. Pardon me.”
In a short while the door opened just a crack; soft light from a candle shone and the tremendous form of Samoylenko
“Do? That’s society’s business. In my opinion, the most direct and reliable path is force.
Manu militari
* , she should be sent back to her husband, and if her husband won’t have her, then give her over to hard labor or some sort of correctional facility.”
“Oofff!” Samoylenko sighed. He was silent, then inquired quietly: “Some days ago you spoke of how those kinds of people, like Laevsky, must be annihilated … Tell me, if it were the case … for argument’s sake, that government or society entrusted you with the task of annihilating him, would you then … resolve the matter?”
“My hand would be steady.”
* By military aid.
IX
Arriving home, Laevsky and Nadezhda Fyodorovna entered their dark, stuffy, boring rooms. They were both silent. Laevsky lit a candle, as Nadezhda Fyodorovna sat down and, removing neither her manteau nor hat, cast her woeful, guilty eyes up at him.
He understood that she was awaiting an explanation from him; but for him to explain himself would have been boring, useless and exhausting, and there was a weight on his soul from having been unable to contain himself and speaking to her crudely. He accidentally touched the letter in his pocket that he’d intended to read to her every day and thought that if he were to show her this letter now it would deflect her attention in a new direction.
It’s time we determine what our relationship is
, he thought.
I’ll give it to her. Whatever will be, will be
.
He took out the letter and handed it to her.
“Read it. It concerns you.”
Having said this, he went into his study and lay in darkness on the divan without a pillow. Nadezhda Fyodorovna read the letter, and it seemed to her that the ceiling had dropped and the walls were closing in on her. It had suddenly become cramped, dark and frightful. She quickly crossed herself three times and began to utter:
“Grant peace, O Lord … Grant peace, O Lord …”
And she began to cry.
“Vanya!” she called out. “Ivan Andreich!”
There was no reply. Thinking that Laevsky had enteredthe room and was standing behind her chair, she sobbed like a baby, all the while saying:
“Why didn’t you tell me that he’d died sooner? I wouldn’t have gone on the picnic, wouldn’t have laughed so frightfully … Men uttered vulgarities at me. What a sin, what a sin! Save me, Vanya, save me … I’m losing my mind … I’m lost …”
Laevsky heard her sobs. He felt an unbearable lack of air, and his heart beat loudly. Filled with melancholy he rose, stood in the center of the room, groped around in the dark for the armchair near the table and sat down.
This is a prison …
, he thought.
I must leave … I can’t go on …
It was already too late to go play cards, there were no restaurants in the town. He lay down again and covered his ears, so as not to hear the sobbing, and suddenly remembered that he could go to Samoylenko’s. To avoid passing near Nadezhda Fyodorovna, he climbed out of the window into the garden, climbed through the small front garden and proceeded down the street. It was dark. Some sort of steamship had just arrived, judging from the lights, a large passenger liner … The anchor chain resounded. Offshore, a fast-moving little red light was heading in the direction of the liner. It was the customs boat at sail.
All the passengers are asleep in their cabins …
, thought Laevsky, envious of the strangers’ serenity.
The windows of Samoylenko’s house were open. Laevsky looked in one of them, then another. It was dark and quiet in the rooms.
“Alexander Davidich, as you sleeping?” he called out. “Alexander Davidich!”
Coughing was heard, and an alarmed cry:
“What the devil? Who’s there?”
“It’s me, Alexander Davidich. Pardon me.”
In a short while the door opened just a crack; soft light from a candle shone and the tremendous form of Samoylenko
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