in picture galleries, in museums, in theatres, or when they talk
of science: they puff themselves out and get excited, they are
abusive and critical . . . they are bound to criticise--it's the
sign of the slave. You listen: men of the liberal professions are
more often sworn at than pickpockets--that's because three-quarters
of society are made up of slaves, of just such monkeys. It never
happens that a slave holds out his hand to you and sincerely says
'Thank you' to you for your work."

"I don't know what you want," said Samoylenko, yawning; "the poor
thing, in the simplicity of her heart, wanted to talk to you of
scientific subjects, and you draw a conclusion from that. You're
cross with him for something or other, and with her, too, to keep
him company. She's a splendid woman."

"Ah, nonsense! An ordinary kept woman, depraved and vulgar. Listen,
Alexandr Daviditch; when you meet a simple peasant woman, who isn't
living with her husband, who does nothing but giggle, you tell her
to go and work. Why are you timid in this case and afraid to tell
the truth? Simply because Nadyezhda Fyodorovna is kept, not by a
sailor, but by an official."

"What am I to do with her?" said Samoylenko, getting angry. "Beat
her or what?

"Not flatter vice. We curse vice only behind its back, and that's
like making a long nose at it round a corner. I am a zoologist or
a sociologist, which is the same thing; you are a doctor; society
believes in us; we ought to point out the terrible harm which
threatens it and the next generation from the existence of ladies