Accustomed to occupy the best places everywhere, they penetrated through the crowd, going straight for the pavilion. The crowd was so dense that, notwithstanding the bright weather, a thick mist caused by the breath of the people, hung over the field. But the police would not let them pass.

“I’m rather glad,” said Rina. “Let us return,” and so they went back into the crowd.

“Lies, all lies,” said Emelian, seated with his companions in a circle round the food which was spread out on white paper⁠—in answer to a young factory hand who, on approaching them, told them that the distribution of gifts had begun.

“I tell you it is so. It’s contrary to regulations, but they have begun. I saw it myself. Each one receives a mug and a packet and away they go.”

“Of course, what do the crazy commissionaires care? They give as they choose.”