on the very morning of the deed you actually
attended the lectures at the University?"

An appreciable fraction of a second elapsed before the real import of
the question reached him, like a bullet which strikes some time after
the flash of the fired shot. Luckily his disengaged hand was ready
to grip a bar of the gate. He held it with a terrible force, but his
presence of mind was gone. He could make only a sort of gurgling, grumpy
sound.

"Come, Kirylo Sidorovitch!" she urged him. "I know you are not a
boastful man. _That_ one must say for you. You are a silent man. Too
silent, perhaps. You are feeding on some bitterness of your own. You are
not an enthusiast. You are, perhaps, all the stronger for that. But you
might tell me. One would like to understand you a little more. I was so
immensely struck.... Have you really done it?"

He got his voice back. The shot had missed him. It had been fired at
random, altogether, more like a signal for coming to close quarters.
It was to be a plain struggle for self-preservation. And she was a
dangerous adversary too. But he was ready for battle; he was so ready
that when he turned towards her not a muscle of his face moved.

"Certainly," he said, without animation, secretly strung up but
perfectly sure of himself. "Lectures--certainly, But what makes you
ask?"

It was she who was animated.

"I had it in a letter, written by a young man in Petersburg; one of
us, of course. You were seen--you were observed with your notebook,
impassible, taking notes...."

He enveloped her with his fixed stare.

"What of that?"

"I call such coolness superb--that's all. It is a proof of uncommon
strength of character. The young man writes that nobody could have
guessed from your face and manner the part you had played only some two
hours before--the great, momentous, glorious part...."

"Oh no. Nobody could have guessed," assented Razumov gravely, "because,
don't you see, nobody at that time...."

"Yes, yes. But all the same you are a man of exceptional fortitude, it
seems. You looked exactly as usual. It was remembered afterwards with
wonder...."

"It cost me no effort," Razumov declared, with the same staring gravity.

"Then it's almost more wonderful still!" she exclaimed, and fell silent
while Razumov asked himself whether he had not said there something
utterly unnecessary--or even worse.

She raised her head eagerly.

"Your intention was to stay in Russia? You had planned