He reproached himself for feeling
troubled. Personally he ought to have felt reassured. There was an
obvious advantage in this conspiracy of mistaken judgment taking him for
what he was not. But was it not strange?
Again he experienced that sensation of his conduct being taken out of
his hands by Haldin's revolutionary tyranny. His solitary and laborious
existence had been destroyed--the only thing he could call his own on
this earth. By what right? he asked himself furiously. In what name?
What infuriated him most was to feel that the "thinkers" of the
University were evidently connecting him with Haldin--as a sort of
confidant in the background apparently. A mysterious connexion! Ha ha!
...He had been made a personage without knowing anything about it. How
that wretch Haldin must have talked about him! Yet it was likely that
Haldin had said very little. The fellow's casual utterances were caught
up and treasured and pondered over by all these imbeciles. And was not
all secret revolutionary action based upon folly, self-deception, and
lies?
"Impossible to think of anything else," muttered Razumov to himself.
"I'll become an idiot if this goes on. The scoundrels and the fools are
murdering my intelligence."
He lost all hope of saving his future, which depended on the free use of
his intelligence.
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