cing him with his eyes fixed on him, and
without uttering a word, every one suddenly noticed it and there was a
general hush; Pyotr Stepanovitch was the last to cease speaking. Liza
and her mother were standing in the middle of the room. So passed five
seconds; the look of haughty astonishment was followed by one of anger
on Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch's face; he scowled....

And suddenly Shatov swung his long, heavy arm, and with all his might
struck him a blow in the face. Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch staggered
violently.

Shatov struck the blow in a peculiar way, not at all after the
conventional fashion (if one may use such an expression). It was not a
slap with the palm of his hand, but a blow with the whole fist, and it
was a big, heavy, bony fist covered with red hairs and freckles. If the
blow had struck the nose, it would have broken it. But it hit him on the
cheek, and struck the left corner of the lip and the upper teeth, from
which blood streamed at once.

I believe there was a sudden scream, perhaps Varvara Petrovna
screamed--that I don't remember, because there was a dead hush again;
the whole scene did not last more than ten seconds, however.

Yet a very great deal happened in those seconds.

I must remind the reader again that Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch's was one
of those natures that know nothing of fear. At a duel he could face the
pistol of his opponent with indifference, and could take aim and kill
with brutal coolness. If anyone had slapped him in the face, I should
have expected him not to challenge his assailant to a duel, but to
murder him on the spot. He was just one of those characters, and would
have killed the man, knowing very well what he was doing, and without
losing his self-control. I fancy, indeed, that he never was liable to
those fits of blind rage which deprive a man of all power of reflection.
Even when overcome with intense anger, as he sometimes was, he was
always able to retain complete self-control, and therefore to realise
that he would certainly be sent to penal servitude for murdering a man
not in a duel; nevertheless, he'd have killed any one who insulted him,
and without the faintest hesitation.

I have been studying Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch of late, and through
special circumstances I know a great many facts about him now, at the
time I write. I should compare him, perhaps, with some gentlemen of the
past of whom legendary traditions are still perceived among us. We are
told, fo