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Chapter 10

           

           “Well,haveyoufinished?”saidLizabethaProkofievnatoEvgenie.“Makehaste,sir;itistimehewenttobed.Haveyoumoretosay?”Shewasveryangry.

           “Yes,Ihavealittlemore,”saidEvgeniePavlovitch,withasmile.“Itseemstomethatallyouandyourfriendshavesaid,Mr.Terentieff,andallyouhavejustputforwardwithsuchundeniabletalent,maybesummedupinthetriumphofrightaboveall,independentofeverythingelse,totheexclusionofeverythingelse;perhapsevenbeforehavingdiscoveredwhatconstitutestheright.Imaybemistaken?”

           “Youarecertainlymistaken;Idonotevenunderstandyou.Whatelse?”

           MurmursaroseintheneighbourhoodofBurdovskyandhiscompanions;Lebedeff’snephewprotestedunderhisbreath.

           “Ihavenearlyfinished,”repliedEvgeniePavlovitch.

           “IwillonlyremarkthatfromthesepremisesonecouldconcludethatmightisrightImeantherightoftheclenchedfist,andofpersonalinclination.Indeed,theworldhasoftencometothatconclusion.Prudhonupheldthatmightisright.IntheAmericanWarsomeofthemostadvancedLiberalstooksideswiththeplantersonthescorethattheblackswereaninferiorracetothewhites,andthatmightwastherightofthewhiterace.”

           “Well?”

           “Youmean,nodoubt,thatyoudonotdenythatmightisright?”

           “Whatthen?”

           “Youareatleastlogical.

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