The other
two thirds formed a square room with two windows. In one corner
stood Pavel's bed, in front a table and two benches. Some chairs,
a washstand with a small looking-glass over it, a trunk with clothes,
a clock on the wall, and two ikons--this was the entire outfit of
the household.
Pavel tried to live like the rest. He did all a young lad should
do--bought himself an accordion, a shirt with a starched front, a
loud-colored necktie, overshoes, and a cane. Externally he became
like all the other youths of his age. He went to evening parties
and learned to dance a quadrille and a polka. On holidays he came
home drunk, and always suffered greatly from the effects of liquor.
In the morning his head ached, he was tormented by heartburns,
his face was pale and dull.
Once his mother asked him:
"Well, did you have a good time yesterday?"
He answered dismally and with irritation:
"Oh, dreary as a graveyard! Everybody is like a machine. I'd better
go fishing or buy myself a gun."
He worked faithfully, without intermission and without incurring
fines. He was taciturn, and his eyes, blue and large like his
mother's, looked out discontentedly.
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