Mark busied himself in his thoughts, and took no further interest in Raisky. Raisky on the other hand examined the extraordinary person before him attentively, studied the expression of his face, followed his movements, and tried to grasp the outline of a strong character. “Thank God,” he said to himself, “that I am not the only idle, aimless person here. In this man there is something similar; he wanders about, reconciles himself to his fate, and does nothing. I at least draw and try to write my novel, while he does nothing. Is he the victim of secret discord like myself? Is he always struggling between two fires? Imagination striving upward to the ideal lures him on on the one hand--man, nature and life in all its manifestations; on the other he is attracted by a cold, destructive analysis which allows nothing to live, and will forget nothing, an analysis that leads to eternal discontent and blighting cold. Is that his secret?” He glanced at Mark, who was already drowsing. “Good-bye, Leonti,” he said, “it’s time I was going home.” “What am I to do with him?” “He can stay here all right.” “Think of the books. It’s leaving the goat loose in the vegetable garden.” “I might wheel him in the armchair into that dark little room, and lock him in,” thought Leonti, “but if he woke, he might pull the roof down.” Mark helped him out of his dilemma by jumping to his feet. “I am going with you,” he said to Raisky. “It is time for you to go to bed, philosopher,” he said to Leonti. “Don’t sit up at nights. You have already got a yellow patch in your face, and your eyes are hollow.” He put out the light, stuffed on his cap, and leapt out of the window. Raisky followed his example, and they went down the garden once more, climbed the fence, and came out in the street. “Listen,” said Mark. “I am hungry, and Leonti has nothing to give me. Can you help me to storm an inn?” “As far as I am concerned. But the thing can be managed without the application of force.” “It is late, and the inns are shut. No one will open willingly, especially when it is known that I am in the case; consequently we must enter by storm. We will call ‘Fire!’ and then they will open at once, and we can get in.” “And be hurled out into the street again.” “There you are wrong. It is possible that I might be refused entrance, but once in, I remain.” “A siege, a row at night....” “Ah, you are afraid of the police,” laughed Mark. “You are thinking of what the Governor would decide on in such a serious case, what Niel Andreevich would say, how the company would take it. Now good-bye, I will go and storm my entrance alone.” “Wait, I have another, more delightful plan,” said Raisky. “My Aunt cannot, you say, bear to hear your name; only the other day she declared she would in no circumstances give you hospitality.” “Well, what then?” “Come home with me to supper, and stay the night with me.” “That’s not a bad plan. Let us go.”