t time in his life; the early morning,
the green rays of light, the dampness, and the men in wet boots,
seemed to him to have nothing to do with his life, to be superfluous
and embarrassing. All this had no connection with the night he had
been through, with his thoughts and his feeling of guilt, and so
he would have gladly gone away without waiting for the duel.

Von Koren was noticeably excited and tried to conceal it, pretending
that he was more interested in the green light than anything. The
seconds were confused, and looked at one another as though wondering
why they were here and what they were to do.

"I imagine, gentlemen, there is no need for us to go further," said
Sheshkovsky. "This place will do."

"Yes, of course," Von Koren agreed.

A silence followed. Ustimovitch, pacing to and fro, suddenly turned
sharply to Laevsky and said in a low voice, breathing into his face:

"They have very likely not told you my terms yet. Each side is to
pay me fifteen roubles, and in the case of the death of one party,
the survivor is to pay thirty."

Laevsky was already acquainted with the man, but now for the first
time he had a distinct view of his lustreless eyes, his stiff
moustaches, and wasted, consumptive neck; he was a money-grubber,
not a doctor; his breath had an unpleasant smell of beef.

"What people there are in the world!" thought Laevsky, and answered:
"Very good."

The doctor nodded and began pacing to and fro again, and it was
evident he did not need the money at all, but simply asked for it
from hatred. Every one felt it was time to begin, or to end what
had been begun, but instead of beginning or ending, they stood
about, moved to and fro and smoked. The young officers, who were
present at a duel for the first time in their lives, and even now
hardly believed in this civilian and, to their thinking, unnecessary
duel, looked critically at their tunics and stroked their sleeves.
Sheshkovsky went up to them and said softly: "Gentlemen, we must
use every effort to prevent this duel; they ought to be reconciled."

He flushed crimson and added:

"Kirilin was at my rooms last night complaining that Laevsky had
found him with Nadyezhda Fyodorovna, and all that sort of thing."

"Yes, we know that too," said Boyko.

"Well, you see, then . . . Laevsky's hands are trembling and all
that sort of thing . . . he can scarcely hold a pistol now. To fight
with him is as inhuman as to fight a man who is drunk