,
and even hate him! Man is divided, he is cut in two by life. You'd
like only to love him; but how is it possible? How can you forgive a
man if he goes against you like a wild beast, does not recognize that
there is a living soul in you, and kicks your face--a human face! You
must not forgive. It's not for yourself that you mustn't. I'd stand
all the insults as far as I myself am concerned; but I don't want to
show indulgence for insults. I don't want to let them learn on my back
how to beat others!"

His eyes now sparkled with a cold gleam; he inclined his head doggedly,
and continued in a more resolute tone:

"I must not forgive anything that is noxious, even though it does not
hurt! I'm not alone in the world. If I allow myself to be insulted
to-day--maybe I can afford to laugh at the insult, maybe it doesn't
sting me at all--but, having tested his strength on me, the offender
will proceed to flay some one else the next day! That's why one is
compelled to discriminate between people, to keep a firm grip on one's
heart, and to classify mankind--these belong to me, those are
strangers."

The mother thought of the officer and Sashenka, and said with a sigh:

"What sort of bread can you expect from unbolted meal?"

"That's it; that's the trouble!" the Little Russian exclaimed. "You
must look with two kinds of eyes; two hearts throb in your bosom. The
one loves all; the other says: 'Halt! You mustn't!'"

The figure of her husband, somber and ponderous, like a huge
moss-covered stone, now rose in her memory. She made a mental image
for herself of the Little Russian as married to Natasha, and her son as
the husband of Sashenka.

"And why?" asked the Little Russian, warming up. "It's so plainly
evident that it's downright ridiculous--simply because men don't stand
on an equal footing. Then let's equalize them, put them all in one
row! Let's divide equally all that's produced by the brains and all
that's made by the hands. Let's not keep one another in the slavery of
fear and envy, in the thraldom of greed and stupidity!"

The mother and the Little Russian now began to carry on such
conversations with each other frequently. He was again taken into the
factory. He turned over all his earnings to the mother, and she took
the money from him with as little fuss as from Pavel. Sometimes Andrey
would suggest with a twinkle in his eyes:

"Shall we read a little, mother, eh?"

She would invariably ref