"What do you want with fighting ?" "I WILL fight!" answered Fedya in a low voice.
When he left, the mother said to Pavel: "This young man will go down sooner than all the rest." Pavel was silent.
A few minutes later the kitchen door opened slowly and Rybin entered.
"Good evening!" he said, smiling.

"Here I am again.

Yesterday they brought me here; to-day I come of my own accord.

Yes, yes!" He gave Pavel a vigorous handshake, then put his hand on the mother's shoulder, and asked: "Will you give me tea ?" Pavel silently regarded his swarthy, broad countenance, his thick, black beard, and dark, intelligent eyes.

A certain gravity spoke out of their calm gaze; his stalwart figure inspired confidence.
The mother went into the kitchen to prepare the samovar.