"Absolutely. Do you want tea?"
"No."
"You ought to say, 'No, thank you.' Well, keep on with your work."
He walked away. Yevsey looking after him saw a man carrying a cane enter the door. He had neither a beard nor mustache, and wore a round hat shoved back on the nape of his neck. He seated himself at the table, at the same time putting upon it some small black and white objects. When Yevsey again started to work, he every once in a while heard abrupt sounds from his master and the newcomer.
"Castle."
"King."
"Soon."
The confused noise of the street penetrated the shop wearily, with strange words quacking in it, like frogs in a marsh.
"What are they doing?" thought the boy, and sighed. He experienced a soft sensation, that from all directions something unusual was coming upon him, but not what he timidly awaited. The dust settled upon his face, tickled his nose and eyes, and set his teeth on edge. He recalled his uncle's words:
"You will live with him as behind a bush."