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Chapter 7

           

           Hippolytehimselfsatquiteunconsciousofwhatwasgoingon,andgazedaroundwithasenselessexpression.

           LebedeffandColiacamerushingupatthismoment.

           “Whatisit?”someoneasked,breathlessly“Amisfire?”

           “Perhapsitwasn’tloaded,”saidseveralvoices.

           “It’sloadedallright,”saidKeller,examiningthepistol,“but

           “What!diditmissfire?”

           “Therewasnocapinit,”Kellerannounced.

           Itwouldbedifficulttodescribethepitiablescenethatnowfollowed.Thefirstsensationofalarmsoongaveplacetoamusement;someburstoutlaughingloudandheartily,andseemedtofindamalicioussatisfactioninthejoke.PoorHippolytesobbedhysterically;hewrunghishands;heapproachedeveryoneinturnevenFerdishenkoandtookthembybothhands,andsworesolemnlythathehadforgottenabsolutelyforgotten“accidentally,andnotonpurpose,”toputacapinthathe“hadtenofthem,atleast,inhispocket.”Hepulledthemoutandshowedthemtoeveryone;heprotestedthathehadnotlikedtoputoneinbeforehandforfearofanaccidentalexplosioninhispocket.Thathehadthoughthewouldhavelotsoftimetoputitinafterwardswhenrequiredand,that,intheheatofthemoment,hehadforgottenallaboutit.Hethrewhimselfupontheprince,thenonEvgeniePavlovitch.

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