besides the list. Has whole figure was expressive of extreme
embarrassment, and at the same time there was a look of determination
upon his face, as on the face of a man suddenly inspired by an idea.
He struggled to say something important, absolutely necessary, and
strove to overcome his timidity.

"Why is he dumb?" Kunin thought wrathfully. "He's settled himself
comfortably! I haven't time to be bothered with him."

To smoothe over the awkwardness of his silence and to conceal the
struggle going on within him, the priest began to smile constrainedly,
and this slow smile, wrung out on his red perspiring face, and out
of keeping with the fixed look in his grey-blue eyes, made Kunin
turn away. He felt moved to repulsion.

"Excuse me, Father, I have to go out," he said.

Father Yakov started like a man asleep who has been struck a blow,
and, still smiling, began in his confusion wrapping round him the
skirts of his cassock. In spite of his repulsion for the man, Kunin
felt suddenly sorry for him, and he wanted to soften his cruelty.

"Please come another time, Father," he said, "and before we part I
want to ask you a favour. I was somehow inspired to write two sermons
the other day. . . . I will give them to you to look at. If they
are suitable, use them."

"Very good," said Father Yakov, laying his open hand on Kunin's
sermons which were lying on the table. "I will take them."