Prove them in Petrograd and Moscow, and you will not have to go forth with the torch.

And what is this torch but the hidden fear that you may be wrong ?...

To wreck the world before you are found out! You are idiots, and you have turned Russia into a madhouse! Spawns from the dung-heap!" "Damn you, Stefani Gregor!" Karlov rushed to the cot, raised his terrible fists, his chest heaving.

Gregor waited.

"No, no! You wish to die!" The madman swung on his heels and dashed toward the door, sweeping the pieces of the violin to the floor as he passed the table.
Gregor feebly drew himself back upon his cot and laid his face in the pillow.
"Ivan--my violin--all that I knew and loved--gone! And God will not let me die!".