One of the members, a high-shouldered, discontented-looking man, with gold spectacles, came into the room.  “Matthew Nikitich has again not come,” he said, in a dissatisfied tone.

“Not yet?” said the president, putting on his uniform.  “He is always late.”

“It is extraordinary.  He ought to be ashamed of himself,” said the member, angrily, and taking out a cigarette.

This member, a very precise man, had had an unpleasant encounter with his wife in the morning, because she had spent her allowance before the end of the month, and had asked him to give her some money in advance, but he would not give way to her, and they had a quarrel.  The wife told him that if he were going to behave so, he need not expect any dinner; there would be no dinner for him at home.  At this point he left, fearing that she might carry out her threat, for anything might be expected from her.  “This comes of living a good, moral life,” he thought, looking at the beaming, healthy, cheerful, and kindly president, who, with elbows far apart, was smoothing his thick grey whiskers with his fine white hands over the embroidered collar of his uniform.  “He is always contented and merry while I am suffering.”

The secretary came in and brought some document.

“Thanks, very much,” said the president, lighting a cigarette.  “Which case shall we take first, then?”

“The poisoning case, I should say,” answered the secretary, with indifference.

“All right; the poisoning case let it be,” said the president, thinking that he could get this case over by four o’clock, and then go away.  “And Matthew Nikitich; has he come?”

“Not yet.”

“And Breve?”

“He is here,” replied the secretary.

“Then if you see him, please tell him that we begin with the poisoning case.”  Breve was the public prosecutor, who was to read the indictment in this case.

In the corridor the secretary met Breve, who, with up lifted shoulders, a portfolio under one arm, the other swinging with the palm turned to the front, was hurrying along the corridor, clattering with his heels.

“Michael Petrovitch wants to know if you are ready?” the secretary asked.

“Of course; I am always ready,” said the public prosecutor.  “What are we taking first?”

“The poisoning case.”

“That’s quite right,” said the public prosecutor, but did not think it at all right.  He had spent the night in a hotel playing cards with a friend who was giving a farewell party.  Up to five in the morning they played and drank, so he had no time to look at this poisoning case, and meant to run it through now.  The secretary, happening to know this, advised the president to begin with the poisoning case.  The secretary was a Liberal, even a Radical, in opinion.

Breve was a Conservative; the secretary disliked him, and envied him his position.

“Well, and how about the Skoptzy?” [a religious sect] asked the secretary.