The old man, who was sitting on the floor, did not rise.

‘Is that the way one says “Good-bye”? Fool, fool!’ he began. ‘Oh dear, what has come to people? We’ve kept company, kept company for well-nigh a year, and now “Good-bye!” and off he goes! Why, I love you, and how I pity you! You are so forlorn, always alone, always alone. You’re somehow so unsociable. At times I can’t sleep for thinking about you. I am so sorry for you. As the song has it:

“It is very hard, dear brother, In a foreign land to live.”

So it is with you.’

‘Well, good-bye,’ said Olenin again.

The old man rose and held out his hand. Olenin pressed it and turned to go.