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Nekhludoff gave his name and passed into the jurymen's room.

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Inside the room were about ten persons of all sorts. They hadcome but a short while ago, and some were sitting, others walkingup and down, looking at each other, and making each other'sacquaintance. There was a retired colonel in uniform; some werein frock coats, others in morning coats, and only one wore apeasant's dress.

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Their faces all had a certain look of satisfaction at theprospect of fulfilling a public duty, although many of them hadhad to leave their businesses, and most were complaining of it.

The jurymen talked among themselves about the weather, the earlyspring, and the business before them, some having beenintroduced, others just guessing who was who. Those who were notacquainted with Nekhludoff made haste to get introduced,evidently looking upon this as an honour, and he taking it as hisdue, as he always did when among strangers. Had he been asked whyhe considered himself above the majority of people, he could nothave given an answer; the life he had been living of late was notparticularly meritorious. The fact of his speaking English,French, and German with a good accent, and of his wearing thebest linen, clothes, ties, and studs, bought from the mostexpensive dealers in these goods, he quite knew would not serveas a reason for claiming superiority. At the same time he didclaim superiority, and accepted the respect paid him as his due,and was hurt if he did not get it. In the jurymen's room hisfeelings were hurt by disrespectful treatment. Among the jurythere happened to be a man whom he knew, a former teacher of hissister's children, Peter Gerasimovitch. Nekhludoff never knew hissurname, and even bragged a bit about this. This man was now amaster at a public school. Nekhludoff could not stand hisfamiliarity, his self-satisfied laughter, his vulgarity, inshort. swiggity swag

"Ah ha! You're also trapped." These were the words, accompaniedwith boisterous laughter, with which Peter Gerasimovitch greetedNekhludoff. "Have you not managed to get out of it?"

"I never meant to get out of it," replied Nekhludoff, gloomily,and in a tone of severity.

"Well, I call this being public spirited. But just wait until youget hungry or sleepy; you'll sing to another tune then." swig

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