Chapter 11

MY EXAMINATION IN MATHEMATICS

AT the subsequent examinations, I made several new acquaintances
in addition to the Graps (whom I considered unworthy of my
notice) and Iwin (who for some reason or other avoided me). With
some of these new friends I grew quite intimate, and even Ikonin
plucked up sufficient courage to inform me, when we next met,
that he would have to undergo re-examination in history--the
reason for his failure this time being that the professor of that
faculty had never forgiven him for last year's examination, and
had, indeed, "almost killed" him for it. Semenoff (who was
destined for the same faculty as myself--the faculty of
mathematics) avoided every one up to the very close of
the examinations. Always leaning forward upon his elbows and
running his fingers through his grey hair, he sat silent and
alone. Nevertheless, when called up for examination in
mathematics (he had no companion to accompany him), he came out
second. The first place was taken by a student from the first
gymnasium--a tall, dark, lanky, pale-faced fellow who wore a
black folded cravat and had his cheeks and forehead dotted all
over with pimples. His hands were shapely and slender, but their
nails were so bitten to the quick that the finger-ends looked as
though they had been tied round with strips of thread. All this
seemed to me splendid, and wholly becoming to a student of the
first gymnasium. He spoke to every one, and we all made friends
with him. To me in particular his walk, his every movement, his
lips, his dark eyes, all seemed to have in them something
extraordinary and magnetic.

On the day of the mathematical examination I arrived earlier than
usual at the hall. I knew the syllabus well, yet there were two
questions in the algebra which my tutor had managed to pass over,
and which were therefore quite unknown to me. If I remember
rightly, they were the Theory of Combinations and Newton's
Binomial. I seated myself on one of the back benches and pored
over the two questions, but, inasmuch as I was not accustomed to
working in a noisy room, and had even less time for preparation
than I had anticipated, I soon found it difficult to take in all
that I was reading.

"Here he is. This way, Nechludoff," said Woloda's familiar voice
behind me.

I turned and saw my brother and Dimitri--their gowns unbuttoned,
and their hands waving a greeting to me--threading their way
through the desks. A moment's glance would have sufficed to show
any one that they were second-course students--persons to whom
the University was as a second home. The mere look of their open
gowns expressed at once disdain for the "mere candidate" and a
knowledge that the