They're waiting, with their mouths open like young crows in a nest, to see what present we've brought them.

They're a hot-headed lot.

They've brought out leaflets, they're on the point of quarrelling.

Virginsky is a universal humanity man, Liputin is a Fourierist with a marked inclination for police work; a man, I assure you, who is precious from one point of view, though he requires strict supervision in all others; and, last of all, that fellow with the long ears, he'll read an account of his own system.

And do you know, they're offended at my treating them casually, and throwing cold water over them, but we certainly must meet." "You've made me out some sort of chief ?" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch dropped as carelessly as possible.
Pyotr Stepanovitch looked quickly at him.
"By the way," he interposed, in haste to change the subject, as though he had not heard.