Shurochka pressed her crochet to her bosom with a gesture of conviction. "But why all this unnecessary and stupid cruelty? Just listen. A lieutenant had insulted another officer. The insult was gross, and the Court of Honour considered a duel necessary. Now, there would have been nothing to say about it, unless the conditions themselves of the duel had been so fixed that the latter resembled an ordinary execution: fifteen paces distance, and the fight to last till one of the duellists was _hors de combat_. This is only on a par with ordinary slaughter, is it not? But hear what followed. On the duelling-ground stood all the officers of the regiment, many of them with ladies; nay, they had even put a photographer behind the bushes! How disgusting! The unfortunate sub-lieutenant or ensign--as Volodya usually says--a man of your youthful age, moreover the party insulted, and not the one who offered the insult--received, after the third shot, a fearful wound in the stomach, and died some hours afterwards in great torture. By his deathbed stood his aged mother and sister, who kept house for him. Now tell me why a duel should be turned into such a disgusting spectacle. Of course the immediate consequence" (Shurochka almost shrieked these words) "was that all those sentimental opponents of duelling--eugh, how I despise these 'liberal' weaklings and poltroons!--at once began making a noise and fuss about 'barbarism,' 'fratricide,' how 'duels are a disgrace to our times,' and more nonsense of that sort." "Good God! I could never believe that you were so bloodthirsty, Alexandra Petrovna," exclaimed Romashov, interrupting her.