"I love to read or hear about murders," cried Madame Travkina; her husband looked round the table and said, "Public trials are an excellent institution."
"It was a friend of mine, Yevgeniyev—you see he was on duty in the strong room, got playing with a young fellow and shot him by accident."
"Ah—how horrible!" cried Tatiana.
"Dead as a door nail!" added the telegraph official, with distinct enjoyment.
"I was called as a witness once," began Travkin now in a dry, creaking voice, "and I heard a man condemned who had carried out twenty-three robberies—not so bad, eh?"
Kirik laughed loudly. The company fell into two groups, one listening to the tale of the boy who was shot, the other to the drawling remarks of Travkin on the man who had carried out twenty-three robberies. Ilya looked at his hostess, and felt a little flame begin to flicker within him—it illuminated nothing but caused a persistent burning at his heart. From the moment he realised that the Avtonomovs were anxious lest he should commit some solecism before their guests, his thoughts became clearer as though he had found a clue to their course.
Tatiana Vlassyevna was busy in the next room at a table covered with bottles. Her bright red silk blouse flamed against the white walls; in her tightly-laced corset she flitted about like a butterfly, all the pride of the skilful housewife shining in her face. Twice Ilya saw her beckon him to her with quick, hardly noticeable gestures, but he did not go and felt glad to think that his refusal would disturb her.
"Why, brother, you're sitting there like an owl!" said Kirik, suddenly. "Say something—don't be afraid—these are educated people who won't be offended with you!"
"There was a girl being tried," Ilya began loudly all at once, "a girl I know, she is a prostitute, but she's a good girl for all that."
Again he attracted the attention of the company, and all eyes were once more fixed on him. Felizata Yegarovna showed her big teeth in a broad, mocking smile; the telegraph official twisted his moustache, covering his mouth with his hand; almost all tried hard to seem serious and attentive. Tatiana suddenly dropped a handful of knives and forks, and the clash rang in Ilya's heart like loud martial music. He looked quietly round the company with widely opened eyes and went on: