"But I will not condemn Tanya—it just happened so—just of itself—as long as I've lived, everything seems to happen of itself—as if by accident. I strangled a man by accident. I didn't mean to, but I strangled him—and think, Tanyka—the money I stole from him is the money that helps to carry on our business!"
"He's mad," cried Kirik in sudden joy, and sprang round the room from one to the other, crying with joy and excitement.
"D'you hear? d'you see? he's out of his mind! Ah, Ilya—oh you—how you hurt me!"
Ilya laughed aloud; his heart was easier and lighter now that he had spoken of the murder. He hardly felt the floor under his feet, and seemed to rise higher and higher. Broad-shouldered and sturdy, he stood there before them all with head erect, and chest thrown out. His black curls framed his high pale brow and temples, and his eyes were full of scorn and malice.
Tatiana got up, tottered to Felizata Yegarovna, and said in a trembling voice:
"I've seen it coming on—a long time—his eyes have looked so wild and terrible for ever so long."
"If he's mad, we must call the police," said Felizata, looking in Ilya's face.
"Mad? of course he's mad!" cried Kirik.
"He may attack us all," whispered Gryslov, and looked anxiously round the room.
All were afraid to move.