“Hush!” cried Koudriavji contemptuously, as his neck twitched.
“How clever he is!” thought Sina Karsavina, full of naïve admiration for Sanine. She looked at him, and then at Svarogitsch, feeling almost bashful, and yet strangely glad. It was as if the two disputants were arguing as to who should possess her.
“Thus, it follows,” continued Sanine, “that you do not need what you are vainly seeking. To me it is evident that every person here to-night is endeavouring to force the others to accept his views, being himself mortally afraid lest others should persuade him to think as they do. Well, to be quite frank, that is boring.”
“One moment! Allow me!” exclaimed Goschienko.
“Oh I that will do!” said Sanine, with a gesture of annoyance. “I expect that you have a most wonderful conception of life, and have read heaps of books. One can see that directly. Yet you lose your temper because everybody doesn’t agree with you; and, what is more, you behave rudely to Soloveitchik, who has certainly never done you any harm.” Goschienko was silent, looking utterly amazed, as if Sanine had said something most extraordinary.
“Yourii Nicolaijevitch,” said Sanine cheerily, “you must not be angry with me because I spoke somewhat bluntly just now. I can see that in your soul discord reigns.”
“Discord?” exclaimed Yourii, reddening. He did not know whether he ought to be angry or not. Just as it had done during their walk to the meeting, Sanine’s calm, friendly voice pleasantly impressed him.
“Ah! you know yourself that it is so!” replied Sanine, with a smile. “But it won’t do to pay any attention to such childish nonsense. Life’s really too short.”
“Look here,” shouted Goschienko, purple with rage, “You take far too much upon yourself!”
“Not more than you do.”