together--like this. You have the grass under your nose; when you're
sick of staring at the landscape you can watch a fat beetle crawling
on a blade of grass, or an ant fussing about. It's really much nicer.
But you've taken up a pseudo-classical pose, for all the world like a
ballet-dancer, when she reclines upon a rock of paste-board. You
should remember you have a perfect right to take a rest now. It's no
joking matter to come out third! Take your ease, sir; give up all
exertion, and rest your weary limbs!'

Shubin delivered this speech through his nose in a half-lazy,
half-joking voice (spoilt children speak so to friends of the house
who bring them sweetmeats), and without waiting for an answer he went
on:

'What strikes me most forcibly in the ants and beetles and other
worthy insects is their astounding seriousness. They run to and fro
with such a solemn air, as though their life were something of such
importance! A man the lord of creation, the highest being, stares at
them, if you please, and they pay no attention to him. Why, a gnat
will even settle on the lord of creation's nose, and make use of him
for food. It's most offensive. And, on the other hand, how is their
life inferior to ours? And why shouldn't they take themselves
seriously, if we are to be allowed to take ourselves seriously? There
now, philosopher, solve that problem for me! Why don't you speak? Eh?'

'What?' said Bersenyev, starting.

'What!' repeated Shubin. 'Your friend lays his deepest thoughts
before you, and you don't listen to him.'