“They didn’t know.⁠ ⁠… Just fancy, one of our comrades went to the Chancellery there and got nothing but rudeness. Just fancy how unpleasant! Would you like a ready-made cigarette?” he said to the one-armed officer, who was trying to get out his cigar-case.

He attended to this officer’s wants with a kind of servile enthusiasm.

“And are you also from Sevastopol?” he continued. “Oh dear, how wonderful it is! How we all in Petersburg used to think about all of you and all our heroes!” he said, addressing Kozeltsóf with respect and cordial endearment.

“Well, then you may find you have to go back?” asked the Lieutenant.

“That’s just what we are afraid of. Just fancy, when we had bought the horse and got all that we needed⁠—a coffeepot with a spirit-lamp and other necessary little things⁠—we had no money at all left,” he said in a low tone, glancing at his comrade, “so that if we have to return we don’t at all know how we shall manage.”