The student drew his textbook to him and began again pacing from corner to corner. “The right lung consists of three parts,” he repeated; “the upper part, on anterior wall of thorax, reaches the fourth or fifth rib.⁠ ⁠…”

In the passage someone shouted at the top of his voice: “Grigory! The samovar!”

Between five and six in the evening. A fairly well-known man of learning⁠—we will call him simply the man of learning⁠—is sitting in his study nervously biting his nails.

“It’s positively revolting,” he says, continually looking at his watch. “It shows the utmost disrespect for another man’s time and work. In England such a person would not earn a farthing, he would die of hunger. You wait a minute, when you do come.⁠ ⁠…”

And feeling a craving to vent his wrath and impatience upon someone, the man of learning goes to the door leading to his wife’s room and knocks.