se who want it, or those who don't want it? For one
must know that definitely," cried two or three voices.

"Those who don't want it--those who _don't_ want it."

"Yes, but what is one to do, hold up one's hand or not hold it up if one
doesn't want it?" cried an officer.

"Ech, we are not accustomed to constitutional methods yet!" remarked the
major.

"Mr. Lyamshin, excuse me, but you are thumping so that no one can hear
anything," observed the lame teacher.

"But, upon my word, Arina Prohorovna, nobody is listening, really!"
cried Lyamshin, jumping up. "I won't play! I've come to you as a
visitor, not as a drummer!"

"Gentlemen," Virginsky went on, "answer verbally, are we a meeting or
not?"

"We are! We are!" was heard on all sides. "If so, there's no need to
vote, that's enough. Are you satisfied, gentlemen? Is there any need to
put it to the vote?"

"No need--no need, we understand."

"Perhaps some one doesn't want it to be a meeting?"

"No, no; we all want it."

"But what does 'meeting' mean?" cried a voice. No one answered.

"We must choose a chairman," people cried from different parts of the
room.

"Our host, of course, our host!"

"Gentlemen, if so," Virginsky, the chosen chairman, began, "I propose
my original motion. If anyone wants to say anything more relevant to the
subject, or has some statement to make, let him bring it forward without
loss of time."

There was a general silence. The eyes of all were turned again on
Verhovensky and Stavrogin.

"Verhovensky, have you no statement to make?" Madame Virginsky asked him
directly.

"Nothing whatever," he answered, yawning and stretching on his chair.
"But I should like a glass of brandy."

"Stavrogin, don't you want to?"

"Thank you, I don't drink."

"I mean don't you want to speak, not don't you want brandy."

"To speak, what about? No, I don't want to."

"They'll bring you some brandy," she answered Verhovensky.

The girl-student got up. She had darted up several times already.

"I have come to make a statement about the sufferings of poor students
and the means of rousing them to protest."

But she broke off. At the other end of the table a rival had risen, and
all eyes turned to him. Shigalov, the man with the long ears, slowly
rose from his seat with a gloomy and sullen air and mournfully laid on
the table a thick notebook filled with extremely small handwriting.
He remained standing in silence. Many people looked at the