"
"I wanted to ask you this," said Soloveitchik, quivering with
excitement. "Do you realize that perhaps you might have killed that
man?"
"There's not much doubt about that," replied Sanine. "It would have
been difficult for a man like Sarudine to get out of the mess unless he
killed me, or I killed him. But, as regards killing me, he missed the
psychological moment, so to speak; and at present he's not in a fit
condition to do me harm. Later on he won't have the pluck. He's played
his part."
"And you calmly tell me all this?"
"What do you mean by 'calmly?'" asked Sanine. "I couldn't look on
calmly and see a chicken killed, much less a man. It was painful to me
to hit him. To be conscious of one's own strength is pleasant, of
course, but it was nevertheless a horrible experience--horrible,
because such an act in itself was brutal. Yet my conscience is calm. I
was but the instrument of fate. Sarudine has come to grief because the
whole bent of his life was bound to bring about a catastrophe; and the
marvel is that others of his sort do not share his fate. These are the
men who learn to kill their fellow-creatures and to pamper their own
bodies, not knowing why or wherefore.
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