“On the contrary, only when the land is nobody’s property will it cease to lie idle, as it does now, while the landlords, like dogs in the manger, unable themselves to put it to use, will not let those use it who are able.”

“But, Dmitri Ivanovitch, what you are saying is sheer madness.  Is it possible to abolish property in land in our age?  I know it is your old hobby.  But allow me to tell you straight,” and Rogozhinsky grew pale, and his voice trembled.  It was evident that this question touched him very nearly.  “I should advise you to consider this question well before attempting to solve it practically.”

“Are you speaking of my personal affairs?”

“Yes, I hold that we who are placed in special circumstances should bear the responsibilities which spring from those circumstances, should uphold the conditions in which we were born, and which we have inherited from our predecessors, and which we ought to pass on to our descendants.”

“I consider it my duty—­”

“Wait a bit,” said Rogozhinsky, not permitting the interruption.  “I am not speaking for myself or my children.  The position of my children is assured, and I earn enough for us to live comfortably, and I expect my children will live so too, so that my interest in your action—­which, if you will allow me to say so, is not well considered—­is not based on personal motives; it is on principle that I cannot agree with you.  I should advise you to think it well over, to read—–?”

“Please allow me to settle my affairs, and to choose what to read and what not to read, myself,” said Nekhludoff, turning pale.  Feeling his hands grow cold, and that he was no longer master of himself, he stopped, and began drinking his tea.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE AIM OF THE LAW.

“Well, and how are the children?” Nekhludoff asked his sister when he was calmer.  The sister told him about the children.  She said they were staying with their grandmother (their father’s mother), and, pleased that his dispute with her husband had come to an end, she began telling him how her children played that they were travelling, just as he used to do with his three dolls, one of them a negro and another which he called the French lady.

“Can you really remember it all?” said Nekhludoff, smiling.

“Yes, and just fancy, they play in the very same way.”

The unpleasant conversation had been brought to an end, and Nathalie was quieter, but she did not care to talk in her husband’s presence of what could be comprehensible only to her brother, so, wishing to start a general conversation, she began talking about the sorrow of Kamenski’s mother at losing her only son, who had fallen in a duel, for this Petersburg topic of the day had now reached Moscow.  Rogozhinsky expressed disapproval at the state of things that excluded murder in a duel from the ordinary criminal offences.  This remark evoked a rejoinder from Nekhludoff, and a new dispute arose on the subject.  Nothing was fully explained, neither of the antagonists expressed all he had in his mind, each keeping to his conviction, which condemned the other.  Rogozhinsky felt that Nekhludoff condemned him and despised his activity, and he wished to show him the injustice of his opinions.