voice. He was one of those who was intensely troubled by problems of a
religious-philosophical character. He thought that the mystical
existence of human unities might be achieved only under the brilliant
and alluring sway of Caesars and Popes. He imagined that he loved
freedom--Christian freedom--yet all the turbulent movements of newly
awakened life aroused only hate in his heart.

"There's terrible news," said Piotr; "a general strike is talked of.
It is reported that all the factories will shut down to-morrow."

Misha burst into an unexpected laugh; it was loud, merry, and
childlike; and there was almost rapture in his remark:

"But you ought to see the sort of face the Headmaster makes on all
such occasions."

His voice was tender and sonorous, and it rang so softly and sweetly
that he might have been telling about the blessed and the innocent,
about the chaste play on the threshold of paradisian abodes. The words
"strike" and "obstruction" came from his lips like the names of rare,
sweet morsels. He grew cheerful and had a sudden desire to make things
lively in schoolboy fashion. He began to sing loudly:

"Awake, rise up...."

But he became confused, stopped sadly, grew quiet, and blushed. The
sisters laughed. Piotr had a surly look. Rameyev smiled benignly. Miss
Harrison, pretending not to have noticed the discordant incident,
calmly pressed the button of the electric bell attached on a cord to
the hanging light to bring on the next course.