“Sit down, Mitya,” he said quietly when Schelkachov came back again, for some reason all smiley and inspired, it was unpleasant to look at. “Sit down and don’t spin about. The administration will see and put you in solitary for wasting time, and you’ll know…” Artiom caught himself thinking that he was starting to emulate Vasilii Petrovich, speaking in the formal “you” to a person much younger than himself.
“But it’s not our fault,” said Schelkachov, continuing to smile.
“Yes, it is,” continued Artiom, closing his eyes.
Sivtsev, who was standing up at this point, sat down too. Artiom suddenly realized that these two were actually listening to him.
Schelkachov — fine, he’s younger, though not too much, maybe five years? Is that all that much? All the more so because Schelkachov, judging
