By this they gain
people's compassion for themselves, and aside from this they have
nothing. Take away this disease from them, cure them, and they are
rendered most unfortunate, because they thus lose their sole means of
living, they then become empty. Sometimes a man's life is so poor
that he is involuntarily compelled to prize his defect and live by
it. It may frankly be said that people are often depraved out of
mere weariness. The soldier felt insulted, and besetting our baker,
roared:
"Tell me--who is it?"
"Shall I tell you?" the baker suddenly turned to him.
"Well?"
"Do you know Tanya?"
"Well?"
"Well, try." . . .
"I?"
"You!"
"Her? That's easy enough!"
"We'll see!"
"You'll see! Ha, ha!"
"She'll. . . ."
"A month's time!"
"What a boaster you are, soldier!"
"Two weeks! I'll show you! Who is it? Tanya! Tfoo!" . . .
"Get away, I say."
"Get away, . . . you're bragging!"
"Two weeks, that's all!"
Suddenly our baker became enraged, and he raised the shovel against
the soldier. The soldier stepped back, surprised, kept silent for
awhile, and, saying ominously, in a low voice: "Very well, then!" he
left us.
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