Many people looked at the notebook in consternation, but Liputin, Virginsky, and the lame teacher seemed pleased.
"I ask leave to address the meeting," Shigalov pronounced sullenly but resolutely.
"You have leave." Virginsky gave his sanction.
The orator sat down, was silent for half a minute, and pronounced in a solemn voice, "Gentlemen!" "Here's the brandy," the sister who had been pouring out tea and had gone to fetch brandy rapped out, contemptuously and disdainfully putting the bottle before Verhovensky, together with the wineglass which she brought in her fingers without a tray or a plate.
The interrupted orator made a dignified pause.
"Never mind, go on, I am not listening," cried Verhovensky, pouring himself out a glass.
"Gentlemen, asking your attention and, as you will see later, soliciting your aid in a matter of the first importance," Shigalov began again, "I must make some prefatory remarks." "Arina Prohorovna, haven't you some scissors ?" Pyotr Stepanovitch asked suddenly.
"What do you want scissors for ?" she asked, with wide-open eyes.
"I've forgotten to cut my nails; I've been meaning to for the last three days," he observed, scrutinising his long and dirty nails with unruffled composure.
Arina Prohorovna crimsoned, but Miss Virginsky seemed pleased.
"I believe I saw them just now on the window." She got up from the table, went and found the scissors, and at once brought them.

Pyotr Stepanovitch did not even look at her, took the scissors, and set to work with them.

Arina Prohorovna grasped that these were realistic manners, and was ashamed of her sensitiveness.

People looked at one another in silence.

The lame teacher looked vindictively and enviously at Verhovensky.