uch, probably because they pitied him. He was a great
lover of women, and said they were the cause of all his misfortunes.
The character of his relations towards them was confirmed by the
appearance of his clothes, which, as a rule, were tidy, and cleaner
than those of his companions. And now, sitting at the door of the
dosshouse, he boastingly related that for a long time past Redka had
been asking him to go and live with her, but he had not gone because he
did not want to part with the company. They heard this with jealous
interest. They all knew Redka. She lived very near the town, almost
below the mountain. Not long ago, she had been in prison for theft.
She was a retired nurse; a tall, stout peasant woman, with a face
marked by smallpox, but with very pretty, though always drunken, eyes.

"Just look at the old devil!" swore Abyedok, looking at Simtsoff, who
was smiling in a self-satisfied way.

"And do you know why they love me? Because I know how to cheer up
their souls."

"Do you?" inquired Kuvalda.

"And I can make them pity me.... And a woman, when she pities! Go and
weep to her, and ask her to kill you ... she will pity you--and she
will kill you."

"I feel inclined to commit a murder," declared Martyanoff, laughing his
dull laugh.

"Upon whom?" asked Abyedok, edging away from him.

"It's all the same to me ... Petunikoff ... Egorka ... or even you!"

"And why?" inquired Kuvalda.

"I want to go to Siberia ... I have had enough of this vile life ...
one learns how to live there!"

"Yes, they have a particularly good way of teaching in Siberia," agreed
the Captain, sadly.

They spoke no more of Petunikoff, or of the turning out of the
inhabitants of the dosshouse. They all knew that they would have to
leave soon, therefore they did not think the matter worth discussion.
It would do no good, and besides the weather was not very cold though
the rains had begun ... and it would be possible to sleep on the ground
anywhere outside the town. They sat in a circle on the grass and
conversed about all sorts of things, discussing one subject after
another, and listening attentively even to the poor speakers in order
to make the time pass; keeping quiet was as dull as listening. This
society of "creatures that once were men" had one fine
characteristic--no one of them endeavoured to make out that he was
better than the others, nor compelled the others to acknowledge his
superiority.

The Augus