“Sometimes he told me of the contents of certain books; others I read with the priest, Natasha’s husband.”
“What books did you read with the priest?”
“For the moment I don’t remember, but he read the writings of the Fathers, for instance, and explained them to Natasha and me, to my great advantage. We also read with him Voltaire and Spinoza. Why do you laugh?” she asked, looking at Raisky.
“There seems a remarkable gap between the Fathers and Spinoza and Voltaire. The Encyclopædists are also included in my library. Did you read them?”
“Nikolai Ivanovich read some to us, and talked about others.”
“Did you also occupy yourselves with Feuerbach, with the Socialists and the Materialists?”
“Yes, Natasha’s husband asked us to copy out passages, which he indicated by pencil marks.”
“What was his object in this?”
“I think he was preparing to publish a refutation.”
“Where did you obtain the newer books that are not in my library? Not the exile,” he suggested as she gave no answer, “who lives here under police supervision, the same man about whom you wrote to me? But you are not listening.”