"What shall I do now?" he reasoned; "borrow of some one, and go away?"
A lady was passing along the sidewalk.
"What a stupid woman!" he said to himself for some reason.
"There's no one I can borrow of. I have wasted my youth."
He came to a block of stores. A merchant in a fox-skin shuba was standing at the door of his shop, and inviting custom.
"If I hadn't taken the eight, I should have won."
A little old beggar-woman followed him, snivelling.
"I have no one to borrow of."
A gentleman in a bear-skin shuba passed him. A policeman was standing on the corner.
"What can I do that will make sensation? Fire a pistol at them? No! That would be stupid. I have wasted my youth. Akh! what a splendid harness that is hanging in that shop! I should like to be riding behind a troïka!... Ekh! you fine fellows![61] I am going back. Lukhnof will be there pretty soon, and we'll have a game."