"We're all equal."
"He who walks in brave attire
Also eats and drinks his fill,
But he whose only clothes are rags
Has an empty stomach still."
"Ah, the hypocrites!"
"Yes, they are hypocrites, all the lot!"
They strode quickly through the streets, and caught up eagerly the passionate scattered words each threw to the other. The more excited they became the closer together they walked. Each felt a deep pure joy that the other thought as he did, and the joy heightened their mood still further. The snow, falling in great flakes, melted on their glowing faces, settled on their clothes, clung to their boots. They marched on through a thick slush that settled noiselessly on the earth.
"I see the state of things quite clearly," cried Pavel, in a tone of conviction.
"One can't go on living like this," Ilya seconded him.
"If you've ever been to the High School, then you're reckoned a gentleman, even if your father was a water-carrier."
"That's it; and how can I help it that I didn't go there, eh?"
"They're to have all the learning, and I—I'm to have nothing!" cried Gratschev, full of wrath. "Just wait a bit!"