Suddenly in the garden there seemed to be no air whatever. All the
others stood still, perplexed, and expectant.
"Oh! what the deuce--" began Ivanoff, endeavouring to interpose.
"Of course I refuse," said Sanine in a strangely calm voice, looking
the other straight in the eyes.
Sarudine breathed hard, as if he were lifting a heavy weight.
"Once more I ask you--do you refuse?" His voice had a hard, metallic
ring.
Soloveitchik turned very pale. "Oh, dear! Oh! dear! He's going to hit
him!" he thought.
"What ... what is the matter?" he stammered, as he endeavoured to
protect Sanine.
Scarcely noticing him, Sarudine roughly pushed him aside. He saw
nothing else in front of him but Sanine's cold, calm eyes.
"I have already told you so," said Sanine, in the same tone.
To Sarudine everything seemed whirling round. He heard behind him hasty
footsteps, and the startled cry of a woman. With a sense of despair
such as one who falls headlong into a chasm might feel, he clumsily and
threateningly flourished the whip.
At that same moment Sanine, using all his strength, struck him full in
the face with his clenched fist.
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