"It seems to me that you work better than usual," remarked the Cossack, looking at Dumnoff.
"I feel better," laughed the latter. "I feel as though I had been having a holiday and a country dance."
"For the sake of your health, you ought to have a little excitement now and then," continued Schmidt. "It is hard for a man of your constitution to be shut up day after day as you are here. A little bear-fight now and then would do you almost as much good as an extra bottle of brandy, besides being cheaper."
"Yes." Dumnoff yawned, displaying all his ferocious white teeth to the assembled company. "That is true—and then, those green cloth policemen look so funny when one upsets them. I wish I had a few here."
"You have not heard the last of your merry-making yet," said Fischelowitz, who was standing in the doorway. "If I had not got you out this morning you would still be in the police-station."
"There is something in that," observed Schmidt. "If he were not out, he would still be in."
"Well, if I were, I should still be asleep," said Dumnoff. "That would not be so bad, after all."
"You may be there again before long," suggested Fischelowitz. "You know there is to be an inquiry. I only hope you will do plenty of work before they lock you up for a fortnight."
"I suppose they will let me work in prison," answered Dumnoff, indifferently. "They do in some places."
Vjera, whose ideas of prisons have been already explained at length, was so much surprised that she at last opened her lips.