“Here they are!” said Schafroff, who was listening to Goschienko’s words with almost reverent attention. Outside, the gate creaked, and again the dog’s gruff bark was heard. “They’ve come!” cried Soloveitchik as he rushed out of the room. “Lie down, Sultan!” he shouted from the house-door. There was a sound of heavy footseps of coughing, and of men’s voices. Then a young student from the Polytechnic School entered, very like Goschienko, except that he was dark and plain. With him, looking awkward and shy, came two workmen, with grimy hands, and wearing short jackets over their dirty red shirts. One of them was very tall and gaunt, whose clean-shaven, sallow face bore the mark of years of semi- starvation, perpetual care and suppressed hatred. The other had the appearance of an athlete, being broad-shouldered and comely, with curly hair. He looked about him as a young peasant might do when first coming to a town. Pushing past them, Soloveitchik began solemnly, “Gentlemen, these are—” “Oh! that’ll do!” cried Goschienko, interrupting him, as usual. “Good evening, comrades.” “Pistzoff and Koudriavji,” said the Polytechnic student. The men strode cautiously into the room, stiffly grasping the hands held out to give them a singularly courteous welcome. Pistzoff smiled confusedly, and Koudriavji moved his long neck about as if the collar of his shirt were throttling him. Then they sat down by the window, near Sina. “Why hasn’t Nicolaieff come?” asked Goschienko sharply. “Nicolaieff was not able to come,” replied Pistzoff. “Nicolaieff is blind drunk,” added Koudriavji in a dry voice. “Oh! I see,” said Goschienko, as he shook his head. This movement on his part, which seemed to express compassion, exasperated Yourii, who saw in the big student a personal enemy. “He chose the better part,” observed Ivanoff. Again the dog barked in the courtyard. “Some one else is coming,” said Dubova. “Probably, the police,” remarked Goschienko with feigned indifference. “I am sure that you would not mind if it were the police,” cried Dubova. Sanine looked at her intelligent eyes, and the plait of fair hair falling over her shoulder, which almost made her face attractive. “A smart girl, that!” he thought. Soloveitchik jumped up as if to run out, but, recollecting himself, pretended to take a cigarette from the table. Goschienko noticed this, and, without replying to Dubova, said: “How fidgety you are, Soloveitchik!” Soloveitchik turned crimson and blinked his eyes ruefully. He felt vaguely conscious that his zeal did not deserve to be so severely rebuked. Then Novikoff noisily entered. “Here I am!” he exclaimed, with a cheery smile. “So I see,” replied Sanine. Novikoff shook the other’s hand and whispered hurriedly, as if by way of excuse, “Lidia Petrovna has got visitors.” “Oh! yes.” “Have we only come here to talk?” asked the Polytechnic student with some irritation. “Do let us make a start.”