"Oh, did you? Then what business is it of yours? Are you my brother?"
Yet she speaks the words absent-mindedly rather than angrily. Around us the dim, blurred walls are peering in our direction with sightless eyes, while in the vicinity a bullock is drawing deep breaths.
I seat myself by her side.
"Should you remain much longer in that position," I remark, "you will have a headache."
There follows no reply.
"Am I disturbing you?" I continue.
"Oh no; not at all." And, lowering her hands, she looks at me. "Whence do you come?"
"From Nizhni Novgorod."
"Oh, from a long way off!"
"Do you care for that young fellow?"