"It comes to the same thing, please—"
"Come!" cried the cook to me, and he came to my table, and rapped my crown lightly with his fingers.
"Fool! And I am a fool, too. I ought to have looked after you."
At Nijni the steward dismissed me. I received nearly eight rubles, the first large money earned by me. When Smouri took farewell of me he said roughly:
"Well, here you are. Now keep your eyes open,—do you understand? You mustn't go about with your mouth open."
He put a tobacco-pouch of colored beads into my hand.
"There you are! That is good handwork. My godchild made it for me. Well, good-by. Read books; that is the best thing you can do."
He took me under the arms, lifted me up, kissed me, and placed me firmly on the jetty. I was sorry for him and for myself. I could hardly keep from crying when I saw him returning to the steamer, pushing aside the porters, looking so large, heavy, solitary. So many times since then I have met people like him, kind, lonely, cut off from the lives of other people.