IX
The grey twilight was growing denser. The shadows merged. Volodya felt depressed. But here was the lamp. The light poured itself on the green tablecloth, the vague, beloved shadows appeared on the wall.
Volodya suddenly felt glad and animated, and made haste to get the little grey book. The bull began to low … the young lady to laugh uproariously. … What evil, round eyes the bald-headed gentleman was making!
Then he tried his own. It was the steppe. Here was a wayfarer with his knapsack. Volodya seemed to hear the endless, monotonous song of the road. …
Volodya felt both joy and sadness.