Markelov first introduced Nejdanov, whom Solomin again shook by the hand, then he went on to "business," mentioning Vassily Nikolaevitch's letter, which Nejdanov handed to Solomin.And while the latter was reading it carefully, his eyes moving from line to line, Nejdanov sat watching him.Solomin was near the window and the sun, already low in the horizon, was shining full on his tanned face covered with perspiration, on his fair hair covered with dust, ****** it sparkle like a mass of gold.His nostrils quivered and distended as he read, and his lips moved as though he were forming every word.He held the letter raised tightly in both hands, and when he had finished returned it to Nejdanov and began listening to Markelov again.The latter talked until he had exhausted himself.
"I am afraid," Solomin began (his hoarse voice, full of youth and strength, was pleasing to Nejdanov's ear), "it will be rather inconvenient to talk here.Why not go to your place? It is only a question of seven miles.You came in your carriage, did you not?""Yes."
"Well, I suppose you can make room for me.I shall have finished my work in about an hour, and will be quite free.We can talk things over thoroughly.You are also free, are you not?" he asked, turning to Nejdanov.
"Until the day after tomorrow."
"That's all right.We can stay the night at your place, Sergai Mihailovitch, I suppose?
"Of course you may!"
"Good.I shall be ready in a minute.I'll just make myself a little more presentable.""And how are things at your factory?" Nejdanov asked significantly.
Solomin looked away.
"We can talk things over thoroughly," he remarked a second time.
" Please excuse me a moment...I'll be back directly....
I've forgotten something."
He went out.Had he not already produced a good impression on Nejdanov, the latter would have thought that he was backing out, but such an idea did not occur to him.
An hour later, when from every story, every staircase and door of the enormous building, a noisy crowd of workpeople came streaming out, the carriage containing Markelov, Nejdanov, and Solomin drove out of the gates on to the road.
"Vassily Fedotitch! Is it to be done?" Pavel shouted after Solomin, whom he had accompanied to the gate.
"No, not now," Solomin replied."He wanted to know about some night work," he explained, turning to his companions.
When they reached Borsionkov they had some supper, merely for the sake of politeness, and afterwards lighted cigars and began a discussion, one of those interminable, midnight Russian discussions which in degree and length are only peculiar to Russians and unequalled by people of any other nationality.
During the discussion, too, Solomin did not come up to Nejdanov's expectation.He spoke little--so little that one might almost have said that he was quite silent.But he listened attentively, and whenever he made any remark or gave an opinion, did so briefly, seriously, showing a considerable amount of common-sense.Solomin did not believe that the Russian revolution was so near at hand, but not wishing to act as a wet blanket on others, he did not intrude his opinions or hinder others from ****** attempts.He looked on from a distance as it were, but was still a comrade by their side.He knew the St.Petersburg revolutionists and agreed with their ideas up to a certain point.
He himself belonged to the people, and fully realised that the great bulk of them, without whom one can do nothing, were still quite indifferent, that they must first be prepared, by quite different means and for entirely different ends than the upper classes.So he held aloof, not from a sense of superiority, but as an ordinary man with a few independent ideas, who did not wish to ruin himself or others in vain.But as for listening, there was no harm in that.
