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Chapter 7

           Aprotestissometimesnosmallthing.”

           Theexplanationwasfinished;Hippolytepausedatlast.

           Thereis,inextremecases,afinalstageofcynicalcandourwhenanervousman,excited,andbesidehimselfwithemotion,willbeafraidofnothingandreadyforanysortofscandal,nay,gladofit.Theextraordinary,almostunnatural,tensionofthenerveswhichupheldHippolyteuptothispoint,hadnowarrivedatthisfinalstage.Thispoorfeebleboyofeighteenexhaustedbydiseaselookedforalltheworldasweakandfrailasaleaflettornfromitsparenttreeandtremblinginthebreeze;butnosoonerhadhiseyesweptoverhisaudience,forthefirsttimeduringthewholeofthelasthour,thanthemostcontemptuous,themosthaughtyexpressionofrepugnancelighteduphisface.Hedefiedthemall,asitwere.Buthishearerswereindignant,too;theyrosetotheirfeetwithannoyance.Fatigue,thewineconsumed,thestrainoflisteningsolong,alladdedtothedisagreeableimpressionwhichthereadinghadmadeuponthem.

           SuddenlyHippolytejumpedupasthoughhehadbeenshot.

           “Thesunisrising,”hecried,seeingthegildedtopsofthetrees,andpointingtothemastoamiracle.“See,itisrisingnow!”

           “Well,whatthen?Didyousupposeitwasn’tgoingtorise?”askedFerdishenko.

           “It’sgoingtobeatrociouslyhotagainallday,”saidGania,withanairofannoyance,takinghishat.“Amonthofthis...

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