Again he threw himself down on the sofa, and began to bite the hairs once more.
"Why are they singing songs in No. 7?" he wondered. "It must be, they are having a jollification in Turbin's room. I'm of a good mind to go there, and have a little drink."
Just at this moment the count came in.
"Well, have you been losing, brother, hey?" he cried.
"I will pretend to be asleep, otherwise I shall have to talk with him, and I really want to sleep now."
Nevertheless Turbin went up to him, and laid his hand caressingly on his head.... "Well, my dear little friend, have you been losing? have you had bad luck? Tell me."
Ilyin made no reply.
The count took him by the arm.
"I have been losing. What is it to you?" muttered Ilyin, in a sleepy voice expressing indifference and vexation; he did not change his position.
"Every thing?"