stood for a minute facing his low bed, considering which way it would be more suitable to lie on it, and finally lay across it at right angles, so that his legs were on the floor. Selifan lay down on the same bed with his head on Petrushka's stomach, oblivious of the fact that he ought not to have been sleeping there, but perhaps in the servants' room, or even in the stable, with the horses. They both fell asleep at the same instant and raised a snore of an incredibly deep note, to which their master responded from the next room with a refined nasal whistle. Soon afterwards everything was still and all the hotel was wrapped in profound slumber; only in one window a light was still to be seen, from the room occupied by the lieutenant from Kazan, apparently a great connoisseur in boots, for he had already bought himself four pairs and was continually trying on a fifth. Several times he went up to his bed to take them off and go to bed, but could not bring himself to do so; the boots were certainly well made, and he still sat a long while lifting up his foot and scrutinising the smartly and beautifully shaped heel.
