wiping his eyes on the fur of his coat and tucking under his knee the right skirt, which the wind kept turning up.

But he longed so passionately to tell somebody of his joyful condition that he said: ‘Nikita!

’

‘It’s comfortable, warm!’ came a voice from beneath.

‘There, you see, friend, I was going to perish. And you would have been frozen, and I should have...’

But again his jaws began to quiver and his eyes to fill with tears, and he could say no more.

‘Well, never mind,’ he thought. ‘I know about myself what I know.’

He remained silent and lay like that for a long time.