Stolidly the young fellow looks at Konev, and inquires:
"How do you know me to be a fool?"
"Because your personality tells me so."
"Eh?" cries the young fellow truculently as he raises himself to a kneeling posture. "How know you what I am?"
"I have been told what you are by the Governor of your province."
The young fellow opens his mouth, and stares at Konev. Then he asks:
"To what province do I belong?"
"If you yourself have forgotten to what province you belong, you had better try and loosen your wits."
"Look here. If I were to hit you, I—"
The woman who has been sewing drops her work to shrug one rounded shoulder as though she were cold, and ask conciliatorily: