“No, can’t you be more exact than that?”
“I’ve never been an agent of the Secret Police,” replied the latter, wriggling more than ever.
“Be so good as to be more definite, don’t keep us waiting.”
The lame man was so furious that he left off answering. Without a word he glared wrathfully from under his spectacles at his tormentor.
“Yes or no? Would you inform or not?” cried Verhovensky.
“Of course I wouldn’t,” the lame man shouted twice as loudly.
“And no one would, of course not!” cried many voices.
“Allow me to appeal to you, Mr. Major. Would you inform or not?” Verhovensky went on. “And note that I appeal to you on purpose.”
“I won’t inform.”
“But if you knew that someone meant to rob and murder someone else, an ordinary mortal, then you would inform and give warning?”