"What happened to me? Did I fall, Ermokhin? Go-o-od comrade!" Then he began to cough, wept drunken tears, and groaned, "My little sister! my little sister!"
He stood up, tottering, wet. He staggered, and, falling back heavily upon the bed, said, rolling his eyes strangely:
"They have quite killed me!"
This struck me as funny.
"What the devil are you laughing at?" he asked, looking at me dully. "What is there to laugh at? I am killed forever!"
He began to hit out at me with both hands, muttering:
"The first time was that of Elias the prophet; the second time, St. George on his steed; the third—Don't come near me! Go away, wolf!"
"Don't be a fool!" I said.
He became absurdly angry, roared, and stamped his feet.
"I am killed, and you—"