The official could
have set a lot of bells ringing all over the building without leaving
his chair. He let Razumov go quite up to the door before he spoke.
"Come, Kirylo Sidorovitch--what are you doing?"
Razumov turned his head and looked at him in silence. He was not in the
least disconcerted. Councillor Mikulin's arms were stretched out on the
table before him and his body leaned forward a little with an effort of
his dim gaze.
"Was I actually going to clear out like this?" Razumov wondered
at himself with an impassive countenance. And he was aware of this
impassiveness concealing a lucid astonishment.
"Evidently I was going out if he had not spoken," he thought. "What
would he have done then? I must end this affair one way or another. I
must make him show his hand."
For a moment longer he reflected behind the mask as it were, then let go
the door-handle and came back to the middle of the room.
"I'll tell you what you think," he said explosively, but not raising his
voice. "You think that you are dealing with a secret accomplice of that
unhappy man. No, I do not know that he was unhappy. He did not tell me.
He was a wretch from my point of view, because to keep alive a false
idea is a greater crime than to kill a man. I suppose you will not deny
that? I hated him! Visionaries work everlasting evil on earth.
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