but Eremy! Eremy!!

While Markelov was standing with his head sunk on his breast, Sipiagin
drew the governor aside and began talking to him in undertones. He
flourished two fingers across his forehead, as though he would suggest
that the unfortunate man was not quite right in his head, in order to
arouse if not sympathy, at any rate indulgence towards the madman. The
governor shrugged his shoulders, opened and shut his eyes, regretted
his inability to do anything, but made some sort of promise in the end.
"Tous les egards... certainement, tous les egards," the soft, pleasant
words flowed through his scented moustache. "But you know the law, my
boy!"

"Of course I do!" Sipiagin responded with a sort of submissive severity.

While they were talking in the corner, Kollomietzev could scarcely stand
still in one spot. He walked up and down, hummed and hawed, showed every
sign of impatience. At last he went up to Sipiagin, saying hastily,
"Vous oublier l'autre!"

"Oh, yes!" Sipiagin exclaimed loudly. "Merci de me l'avoir rappele. Your
excellency," he said, turning to the governor (he purposely addressed
his friend Voldemar in this formal way, so as not to compromise the
prestige of authority in Markelov's presence), "I must draw your
attention to the fact that my brother-in-law's mad attempt has certain
ramifications, and one of these branches, that is to say, one of the
suspected persons, is to be found not very far from here, in this town.
I've brought another with me," he added in a whisper, "he's in the
drawing-room. Have him brought in here."

"What a man!" the governor thought with admiration, gazing respectfully
at Sipiagin. He gave the order and a minute later Sila Paklin stood
before him.

Paklin bowed very low to the governor as he came in, but catching sight
of Markelov before he had time to raise himself, remained as he
was, half bent down, fidgetting with his cap. Markelov looked at him
vacantly, but could hardly have recognised him, as he withdrew into his
own thoughts.

"Is this the branch?" the governor asked, pointing to Paklin with a long
white finger adorned with a turquoise ring.

"Oh, no!" Sipiagin exclaimed with a slight smile. "However, who knows!"
he added after a moment's thought. "Your excellency," he said aloud,
"the gentleman before you is Mr. Paklin. He comes from St. Petersburg
and is a close friend of a certain person who for a time held the
position of tutor in my house and who ran a