"Have you ever been pushed under a trolley car? Not yet? Then wait before you call names."
"Just look, Maklakov," began Sasha, but the man continued in extreme excitement:
"Have you ever been beaten at night by unknown people? Do you understand? Unknown people! There are hundreds of thousands such people unknown to me in the city, hundreds of thousands. They are everywhere, and I am a single one. I am always among them, do you understand?"
Now Solovyov began to speak in his soft, reassuring voice, which was drowned, however, by the new burst of words coming from the shattered man, who carried in himself a whirlwind of fear. Klimkov immediately grew dizzy, overwhelmed by the alarming whisper of his talk, blinded by the motion of his broken body, and the darting of his cowardly hands. He expected that now something huge and black would tear its way through the door, would fill the room, and crush everybody.
"It's time for us to go," said Maklakov, touching his shoulder.
When they were sitting in the cab Yevsey sullenly remarked:
"I am not fit for this work."
"Why?" asked Maklakov.
"I am timid."
"That'll pass away."