“I had a good place in an office in Petersburg, and received thirty roubles 339 a month. Lived very comfortably. I have read your books War and Peace and Anna Karénina ,” says he, again smiling a particularly pleasant smile. “Then my folks at home got the idea of migrating to Siberia, to the Province of Tomsk.” They wrote to him asking whether he would agree to sell his share of land in the old place. He agreed. His people left, but the land allotted them in Siberia turned out worthless. They spent all they had, and came back. Being now landless, they are living in hired lodgings in their former village, and work for wages. It happened, just at the same time, that he lost his place in Petersburg. It was not his doing. The firm he was with became bankrupt, and dismissed its employees. “And just then, to tell the truth, I came across a seamstress.” He smiled again. “She quite entangled me.⁠ ⁠… I used to help my people, and now see what a smart chap I have become!⁠ ⁠… Ah well, God is not without mercy; maybe I’ll manage somehow!”