"Excuse me," answered Kostoglotov, restraining himself with difficulty. He stretched one arm toward Rusanov. "No one on this earth says anything 'once and for all.' If they did, life would come to a stop and succeeding generations would have nothing to say."
Pavel Nikolayevich was taken aback. The tops of his delicate white ears turned quite red, and round red patches appeared on his cheeks.
(He shouldn't be expostulating, entering into a Saturday afternoon argument with this man. He ought to be checking up on who he was, where he came from, where his background was, and whether his blatantly false views weren't a danger in the post he occupied.)
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