red clouds。
The wind was tearing them asunder and driving them somewhere； heavy and weary； one overtaking another； they were passing across the sky in an enormous flock。 Now forming a solid mass； now breaking into fragments； now falling low over the earth； in silent confusion； now again rising upward； one swallowed by another。
Without moving his head； which was heavy from intoxication； Foma looked long at the clouds and finally began to feel as though silent clouds were also passing through his breast；passing； breathing a damp coldness upon his heart and oppressing him。 There was something impotent in the motion of the clouds across the sky。 And he felt the same within him。 Without thinking； he pictured to himself all he had gone through during the past months。 It seemed to him as though he had fallen into a turbid； boiling stream； and now he had been seized by dark waves； that resembled these clouds in the sky； had been seized and carried away somewhere； even as the clouds were carried by the wind。 In the darkness and the tumult which surrounded him； he saw as though through a mist that certain other people were hastening together with himto…day not those of yesterday； new ones each day； yet all looking alikeequally pitiful and repulsive。 Intoxicated； noisy； greedy； they flew about him as in a whirlwind； caroused at his expense； abused him； fought； screamed； and even wept more than once。 And he beat them。 He remembered that one day he had struck somebody on the face； torn someone's coat off and thrown it into the water and that some one had kissed his hands with wet； cold lips as disgusting as frogs。 Had kissed and wept； imploring him not to kill。 Certain faces flashed through his memory； certain sounds and words rang in it。 A woman in a yellow silk waist； unfastened at the breast； had sung in a loud； sobbing voice：
〃And so let us live while we canAnd thene'en grass may cease to grow。〃
All these people； like himself； grown wild and beastlike； were seized by the same dark wave and carried away like rubbish。 All these people； like himself； must have been afraid to look forward to see whither this powerful； wild wave was carrying them。 And drowning their fear in wine； they were rushing forward down the current struggling； shouting； doing something absurd； playing the fool； clamouring； clamouring； without ever being cheerful。 He was doing the same； whirling in their midst。 And now it seemed to him； that he was doing all this for fear of himself； in order to pass the sooner this strip of life； or in order not to think of what would be afterward。
Amid the burning turmoil of carouses； in the crowd of people； seized by debauchery； perplexed by violent passions； half…crazy in their longing to forget themselvesonly Sasha was calm and contained。 She never drank to intoxication； always addressed people in a firm； authoritative voice； and all her movements were equally confident； as though this stream had not taken possession of her； but she was herself mastering its violent course。 She seemed to Foma the cleverest person of all those that surrounded him； and the most eager for noise and carouse； she held them all in her sway； forever inventing something new and speaking in one and the same manner to everybody； for the driver； the lackey and the sailor she had the same tone and the same words as for her friends and for Foma。 She was younger and prettier than Pelageya； but her caresses were silent； cold。 Foma imagined that deep in her heart she was concealing from everybody something terrible； that she would never love anyone； never reveal herself entire。 This secrecy in the woman attracted him toward her with a feeling of timorous curiosity； of a great； strained interest in her calm； cold soul； which seemed even as dark as her eyes。
Somehow Foma said to her one day：
〃But what piles of money you and I have squandered！〃
She glanced at him； and asked：
〃And why should we save it？〃
〃Indeed； why？〃 thought Foma； astonished by the fact that she reasoned so simply。
〃Who are you？〃 he asked her at another occasion。
〃Why； have you forgotten my name？〃
〃Well； the idea！〃
〃What do you wish to know then？〃
〃I am asking you about your origin。〃
〃Ah！ I am a native of the province of Yaroslavl。 I'm from Ooglich。 I was a harpist。 Well； shall I taste sweeter to you； now that you know who I am？〃
〃Do I know it？〃 asked Foma； laughing。
〃Isn't that enough for you？ I shall tell you nothing more about it。 What for？ We all come from the same place； both people and beasts。 And what is there that I can tell you about myself？ And what for？ All this talk is nonsense。 Let's rather think a little as to how we shall pass the day。〃
On that day they took a trip on a steamer； with an orchestra of music； drank champagne； and every one of them got terribly drunk。 Sasha sang a peculiar； wonderfully sad song； and Foma； moved by her singing； wept like a child。 Then he danced with her the 〃Russian dance；〃 and finally； perspiring and fatigued； threw himself overboard in his clothes and was nearly drowned。
Now； recalling all this and a great deal more； he felt ashamed of himself and dissatisfied with Sasha。 He looked at her well…shaped figure； heard her even breathing and felt that he did not love this woman； and that she was unnecessary to him。 Certain gray； oppressive thoughts were slowly springing up in his heavy； aching head。 It seemed to him as though everything he had lived through during this time was twisted within him into a heavy and moist ball； and that now this ball was rolling about in his breast； unwinding itself slowly； and the thin gray cords were binding him。
〃What is going on in me？〃 he thought。 〃I've begun to carouse。 Why？ I don't know how to live。 I don't understand myself。 Who am I？〃
He was astonished by this question； and he paused over it； attempting to make it clear to himselfwhy he was unable to live as firmly and confidently as other people do。 He was now still more tortured。 by conscience。 More uneasy at this thought； he tossed about on the hay and irritated； pushed Sasha with his elbow。
〃Be careful！〃 said she； although nearly asleep。
〃It's all right。 You're not such a lady of quality！〃 muttered Foma。
〃What's the matter with you？〃
〃Nothing。〃
She turned her back to him； and said lazily； with a lazy yawn：
〃I dreamed that I became a harpist again。 It seemed to me that I was singing a solo； and opposite me stood a big； dirty dog； snarling and waiting for me to finish the song。 And I was afraid of the dog。 And I knew that it would devour me； as soon as I stopped singing。 So I kept singing； singing。 And suddenly it seemed my voice failed me。 Horrible！ And the dog is gnashing his teeth。 0h Lord； have mercy on me！ What does it mean？〃
〃Stop your idle talk！〃 Foma interrupted her sternly。 〃You better tell me what you know about me。〃
〃I know； for instance； that you are awake now；〃 she answered； without turning to him。
〃Awake？ That's true。 I've awakened；〃 said Foma； thoughtfully and； throwing his arm behind his head； went on： 〃That's why I am asking you。 What sort of man do you think I am？〃
〃A man with a drunken headache；〃 answered Sasha； yawning。
〃Aleksandra！〃 exclaimed Foma； beseechingly； 〃don't talk nonsense！ Tell me conscientiously； what do you think of me？〃
〃I don't think anything！〃 she said drily。 〃Why are you bothering me with nonsense？〃
〃Is this nonsense？〃 said Foma； sadly。 〃Eh； you devils！ This is the principal thing。 The most essential thing to me。〃
He heaved a deep sigh and became silent。 After a minute's silence； Sasha began to speak in her usual； indifferent voice：
〃Tell him who he is； and why he is such as he is？ Did you ever see！ Is it proper to ask such questions of our kind of women？ And on what ground should I think about each and every man？ I have not even time to think about myself； and； perhaps； I don't feel like doing it at all。〃
Foma laughed drily and said：
〃I wish I were like thisand had no desires for anything。〃
Then the woman raised her head from the pillow； looked into Foma's face and lay down again； saying：
〃You are musing too much。 Look outno good will come of it to you。 I cannot tell you anything about yourself。 It is impossible to say anything true about a man。 Who can understand him？ Man does not know himself。 Well； here； I'll tell youyou are better than others。 But what of it？〃
〃And in what way am I better？〃 asked Foma； thoughtfully。
〃So！ When one sings a good songyou weep。 When one does some mean thingyou beat him。 With women you are simple； you are not impudent to them。 You are peaceable。 And you can also be daring； sometimes。〃
Yet all this did not satisfy Foma。
〃You're not telling me the right thing！〃 said he； softly。 〃Well； I don't know what you want。 But see here； what are we going to do after they have raised the barge？〃
〃What can we do？〃 asked Foma。
〃Shall we go to Nizhni or to Kazan？〃
〃What for？〃
To carouse。〃
〃1 don't want to carouse any more。〃
〃What else are you going to do？〃
〃What？ Nothing。〃
And both were silent for a long time； without looking at each other。
〃You have a disagreeable character；〃 said Sasha； 〃a wearisome character。〃
〃But nevertheless I won't get drunk any