At that time in Kieff there were restaurants where students assembled. Circumstances were such that it was not possible to live with the city society. Those various city circles were unwilling to receive young persons whom the future alone was to form into people. On the student side lack of steadiness, violence of speech, insolence, and other native traits usual to youth were not very willing to bend themselves to social requirements; as to the country, that furnished its social contingent only in winter, or during the time of the contracts. So the University was a body entirely confined to itself, living a life of books in the day, and leading a club life at night. For many reasons there was more good in this than evil, for though young men went into the world without polish, they had energy and were capable of action. Wearied and worn-out individuals were not found among them.
Our acquaintances passed through the street quickly, and turned toward the gleaming windows of a restaurant. Under the light of the moon it was possible to distinguish the broad, strong figure of Yosef near the bent shoulders and large head of Gustav. The latter hurried on in advance somewhat, conversing with Yosef or with himself; at last he halted under a window, seized the sill, and drawing himself up examined the interior carefully. Finally he dropped down, and said, while wiping off whitewash from his knees,—
"She is not there."
"Who is not there?"
"Either she has been there or she will not come."
"Who is she?"
"What o'clock is it?"
"Ten o'clock. Whom art thou looking for through the window?"
"The widow."
"The widow? Who is she?"