The elder did not look at him. “How odd you are!” he said, and took out his cigarette-case. “Only the pity is that we shall not be together.”

“I say, tell me quite frankly: is it very dreadful at the bastions?” suddenly asked the younger.

“It seems dreadful at first, but one gets used to it. You’ll see for yourself.”

“Yes, another thing. Do you think they will take Sevastopol? I think they won’t; I am certain they won’t.”

“Heaven only knows.”

“It’s so provoking.⁠ ⁠… Just think, what a misfortune: do you know, we’ve had a whole bundle of things stolen on the way, and my shako was inside, so that I am in a terrible position. Whatever shall I appear in?”

Kozeltsóf secundus