"As I was telling you," he went on to say, wiping his hands on his jacket, "such people can't show any delicacy toward a man, a common soldier, who hasn't much money either. That's beyond their strength. And here recently, while I haven't received any thing at all from my sister, I have been conscious that they have changed toward me. This sheepskin jacket, which I bought of a soldier, and which hasn't any warmth in it, because it's all worn off" (and here he showed me where the wool was gone from the inside), "it doesn't arouse in him any sympathy or consideration for my unhappiness, but scorn, which he does not take pains to hide. Whatever my necessities may be, as now when I have nothing to eat except soldiers' gruel, and nothing to wear," he continued, casting down his eyes, and pouring out for himself still another glass of liquor, "he does not even offer to lend me some money, though he knows perfectly well that I would give it back to him; but he waits till I am obliged to ask him for it. But you appreciate how it is for me to go to _him._ In your case I should say, square and fair, _Vous êtes au dessus de cela, mon cher, je n'ai pas le sou._ And you know," said he, looking straight into my eyes with an expression of desperation, "I am going to tell you, square and fair, I am in a terrible situation: _pouvez-vous me prêter dix rubles argent?_ My sister ought to send me some by the next mail, _et mon père_"-- "Why, most willingly," said I, although, on the contrary, it was trying and unpleasant, especially because the evening before, having lost at cards, I had left only about five rubles in Nikíta's care. "In a moment," said I, arising, "I will go and get it at the tent." "No, by and by: _ne vous dérangez pas._" Nevertheless, not heeding him, I hastened to the closed tent, where stood my bed, and where the captain was sleeping. "Alekséi Ivánuitch, let me have ten rubles, please, for rations," said I to the captain, shaking him. "What! have you been losing again? But this very evening, you were not going to play any more," murmured the captain, still half asleep. "No, I have not been playing; but I want the money; let me have it, please." "Makatiuk!" shouted the captain to his servant,[18] "hand me my bag with the money." "Hush, hush!" said I, hearing Guskof's measured steps near the tent. "What? Why hush?" "Because that cashiered fellow has asked to borrow it of me. He's right there." "Well, if you knew him, you wouldn't let him have it," remarked the captain. "I have heard about him. He's a dirty, low-lived fellow." Nevertheless, the captain gave me the money, ordered his man to put away the bag, pulled the flap of the tent neatly to, and, again saying, "If you only knew him, you wouldn't let him have it," drew his head down under the coverlet. "Now you owe me thirty-two, remember," he shouted after me.