He received replies in kind.
"Happy Grichka, what good care the authorities take of him!" cried
someone in a group of 'longshoremen who had eaten their dinner and were
lying, stretched out on the ground.
"I have no shoes; Semenitch is afraid that I may hurt my feet," replied
Tchelkache.
They reached the gate. Two soldiers searched Tchelkache and pushed him
gently aside.
"Don't let him come back again!" cried Semenitch, who had remained
inside.
Tchelkache crossed the road and seated himself on a stepping-block in
front of the inn door. From the wharf emerged an interminable stream
of loaded wagons. From the opposite direction arrived empty wagons at
full speed, the drivers jolting up and down on the seats. The quay
emitted a rumbling as of thunder; accompanied by an acrid dust. The
ground seemed to shake.
Accustomed to this mad turmoil, stimulated by his scene with Semenitch,
Tchelkache felt at peace with all the world. The future promised him
substantial gain without great outlay of energy or skill on his part.
He was sure that neither the one nor the other would fail him; screwing
up his eyes, he thought of the next day's merry-making when, his work
accomplished, he should have a roll of bills in his pocket.
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