And then he would start to beat the drunken man so cruelly that the workmen, who regarded internal dissensions amongst themselves merely as a spectacle, interfered between the friends, and separated them.
"If we did n't stop Evgen in time, he would beat any one to death, and he would never forgive himself," they said.
When he was sober Kapendiukhin ceaselessly jeered at Sitanov, making fun of his passion for poetry and his unhappy romance, obscenely, but unsuccessfully trying to arouse jealousy. Sitanov listened to the Cossack's taunts in silence, without taking offense, and he sometimes even laughed with Kapendiukhin at himself.
They slept side by side, and at night they would hold long, whispered conversations about something. These conversations gave me no peace, for I was anxious to know what these two people who were so unlike each other found to talk about in such a friendly manner. But when I went near them, the Cossack yelled:
"What do you want?"
But Sitanov did not seem to see me.
However, one day they called me, and the Cossack asked:
"Maximich, if you were rich, what would you do?"
"I would buy books."
"And what else?"