"I suppose my Alexey's playing cards somewhere," she called to them. "Good-night!"
After the lighted rooms nothing could be seen. Yartsev and Kostya groped their way like blind men to the railway embankment and crossed it.
"One can't see a thing," said Kostya in his bass voice, standing still and gazing at the sky. "And the stars, the stars, they are like new three-penny-bits. Gavrilitch!"
"Ah?" Yartsev responded somewhere in the darkness.
"I say, one can't see a thing. Where are you?"
Yartsev went up to him whistling, and took his arm.
"Hi, there, you summer visitors!" Kostya shouted at the top of his voice. "We've caught a socialist."
When he was exhilarated he was always very rowdy, shouting, wrangling with policemen and cabdrivers, singing, and laughing violently.
"Nature be damned," he shouted.
"Come, come," said Yartsev, trying to pacify him. "You mustn't. Please don't."