"He who walks in brave attire Also eats and drinks his fill, But he whose only clothes are rags Has an empty stomach still." "Ah, the hypocrites!" "Yes, they are hypocrites, all the lot!" They strode quickly through the streets, and caught up eagerly the passionate scattered words each threw to the other. The more excited they became the closer together they walked. Each felt a deep pure joy that the other thought as he did, and the joy heightened their mood still further. The snow, falling in great flakes, melted on their glowing faces, settled on their clothes, clung to their boots. They marched on through a thick slush that settled noiselessly on the earth. "I see the state of things quite clearly," cried Pavel, in a tone of conviction. "One can't go on living like this," Ilya seconded him. "If you've ever been to the High School, then you're reckoned a gentleman, even if your father was a water-carrier." "That's it; and how can I help it that I didn't go there, eh?" "They're to have all the learning, and I--I'm to have nothing!" cried Gratschev, full of wrath. "Just wait a bit!" "Oh, curse it!" cried Ilya, who that moment stepped into a mud puddle. "Keep more to the left." "Where are we going, anyhow--to the hangman?" "To Sidorisha." "Where?" "To Sidorisha. Don't you know her?" "N--no," said Ilya, after a moment's pause, and took two or three steps onward. "It's a good long way, we're going." "Oh!" said Pavel quietly, "I must go, I've something to do." "Oh! don't mind me! of course, I'll come too." "I'll tell you Ilya, though it's hard to speak of it." He spat into the road and was silent for a moment or two. "What is it?" asked Lunev, pricking up his ears. "You see," began Pavel, hesitatingly, "it's about a girl. Well, you'll see her. She can search a fellow's heart; she was a servant at the doctor's house, who cured me. I got books from him after I was better. I'd go, and then I'd have to sit in the kitchen and wait, and she was there skipping about like a squirrel and laughing; for me, I was like a wood shaving in the fire. Well, we were alone, things went quickly, without many words. Ah! the happiness! as if heaven had come down to us. I flew to her like a feather into the fire; we kissed till our lips smarted. Ah! she was as pretty and dainty as a toy. If I caught her in my arms, she seemed to disappear. She was like a little bird that flew into my heart and sang and sang there." He stopped, and a strange sound like a sob came from his lips. "And what then?" asked Ilya, carried away by the story.