“How can I tell you? How do I know? You see in what a tavern I spend all my time and it’s my enjoyment, that’s to say it’s no great enjoyment, but one must sit somewhere; that poor Katia now⁠—you saw her?⁠ ⁠… If only I had been a glutton now, a club gourmand, but you see I can eat this.”

He pointed to a little table in the corner where the remnants of a terrible-looking beefsteak and potatoes lay on a tin dish.