stand what Paklin said, or possibly took his words for a joke, for he vociferated once more, 'Yes! a thousand roubles! Kapiton Andreitch's word is sacred!' He suddenly thrust his hand into his side-pocket. 'Here it is, here's the cash! There, pocket it; and remember Kapiton!' As soon as he reached a certain pitch of excitement, he used to talk of himself in the third person, like a little child. Nezhdanov picked up the notes flung on the wine-stained cloth. Since there was nothing to stay for after this, and it was now late, they all got up, took their caps, and went away.
In the open air they all felt giddy, especially Paklin.
'Well? where are we going now?' he managed to articulate with some difficulty.
'I don't know where you're going,' answered Solomin; 'I'm going home.'
'To your factory?'
'Yes.'
'Now, in the middle of the night, on foot?'
'What of it? there are neither wolves nor brigands here, and I'm quite well and able to walk. It's cooler walking at night.'
'But, I say, it's three miles!'
'Well, what if it were four? Good-bye, my friends!'
Solomin buttoned up his coat, pulled his
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