He reached the square before the theatre. The bright gleam of the electric lights brought him to his senses. He stopped. As he did so, he came near falling. He stumbled forward and leaned against the wall of a building. He felt that his shoes were filled with snow. This, however, produced no effect whatever upon him. What did vex him was that he could scarcely stand on his feet, that his heart was fearfully weak and his desire for food persisted in growing. He would remain standing there. Whither else should he go? Here, at least, it was light, and soon he would see people. Many people,—rich, happy. And what of it if he _should_ see the wealthy, sated crowd? He would beg alms. He would say that he hadn’t eaten for three days. Ask alms! He shuddered with repulsion at the idea. But he was so terribly hungry! He had been on the point of stealing. Which was better, stealing or begging? He leaned against the wall, threw his head back, looked with a dull glance into the snowy distance and, with his blunted mind, sought a reply. The night-watchman approached him and pushed him away. “What are you doing here?” Itsye scarcely moved. He could not raise his feet. “Do you want to be arrested?” Itsye nearly fell; he was greatly excited, but he composed himself and gathered all his strength in a desperate effort to walk off. Ouf! He could not feel his legs. Hunks of ice! He began to kick one foot against the other. “Well! Get a move on! Faster, there!” Itsye snarled through his clamped teeth. “Can’t you see I can barely move? What are you driving me for? Better ask whether I’m not hungry!” He crossed the street. Several stores were still open. Hadn’t he better go in and beg alms? He halted before a window. He desired to consider what to do. “I see you! I see you over there!” he heard the watchman shout. He proceeded further along the street, at the other end, where it was almost pitch dark. There he paused for a while to kick his feet again. Then he walked along. He made a circle around the theatre and came to a halt before the entrance. There were no policemen in sight. They were inside the lobby seeking shelter from the wind and storm. Itsye remained there, hopping now on one foot, now on the other. Without any definite thoughts, utterly purposeless. He remained here because it was light, because inside sat wealthy, sated persons enjoying themselves. He recalled that he had never been to a theatre. He had never been able to spare the price. It must be very pleasant inside of a theatre, seeing that people were so enthusiastic about it. Such varieties of entertainment folks devised for themselves! And he must stand outside, covered with snow, frozen, hungry, and would be joyful if he found a piece of bread! His anger began to return. And he recollected that in the morning he had desired to do something, to wreak vengeance.... Just what had it been? He wrinkled his forehead. Just what had he meant to do? “Ah! Much I can think up in there, now!”