'Nezhdanov,' Paklin hazarded, 'has been led away, perhaps, but his heart———'
'Is good,' put in Sipyagin: 'to be sure . . . to be sure, like Markelov's. They all have good hearts. Probably he too has taken part—and will be too . . . We shall have to protect him too.'
Paklin clasped his hands before his breast.
'Ah, yes, yes, your Excellency! Extend your protection to him! Indeed . . . he deserves . . . deserves your sympathy.'
'H'm,' said Sipyagin; 'you think so?'
'If not for his own sake, at least . . . for your niece's; for his wife's! ('O Lord! O Lord!' Paklin was thinking, 'what lies I'm telling!')
Sipyagin puckered up his eyes.
'You are, I see, a very devoted friend. That's excellent; that's very praiseworthy, young man. And so, you say, they're living near here?'
'Yes, your Excellency; at a large establishment . . .' Paklin bit his tongue.
'Tut . . . tut-tut . . . at Solomin's! so they're there! I was aware of that—indeed, I'd been told so, I'd been informed.. . . Yes.' (Mr. Sipyagin was not in the least aware of it, and no one had told him so; but recollecting Solomin's visit, and their midnight interview, he
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