“Yes, certainly it's mine, but I don't know: I saw the blood when I woke up again.”
“So, then, I suppose you dirtied the poddevka with blood in your sleep?”
“Just so.…”
“Well, my man, go and think it over.… You're talking nonsense; think well and tell me to-morrow.… Go!”
The following morning, when I awoke, I was informed that Kuz'ma wanted to speak to me. I ordered him to be brought in.
“Have you bethought yourself?” I asked him.
“Just so, I've bethought myself.…”
“How did the blood get on your poddevka?”
“Your Honour, I remember as if in a dream: I remember something, as in a fog, but if it is true or not I can't say.”
“What do you remember?”