"Besides, this is Good Friday, not Easter Day," the old soldier
concluded with severe, didactical mien.

In a gap of blue between the clouds there was shining the March
sun, and everywhere the ice was sparkling as though in derision
of ourselves. Shading his eyes, Ossip gazed at the dissolving
river, and said:

"Yes, it IS rising--but that will not last for long."

"No, but long enough to make us miss the festival," grumbled
Sashok.

Upon this the smooth, beardless face of the youthful Morduine, a
face dark and angular like the skin of an unpeeled potato,
assumed a resentful frown, and, blinking his eyes, he muttered:

"Yes, here we may have to sit--here where there's neither food
nor money! Other folk will be enjoying themselves, but we shall
have to remain hugging our hungry stomachs like a pack of dogs! "

Meanwhile Ossip's eyes had remained fixed upon the river, for
evidently his thoughts were far away, and it was in absentminded
fashion that he replied:

"Hunger cannot be considered where necessity impels. By
the way, what use are our damned icebreakers? For the protection
of barges and such? Why, the ice hasn't the sense to care. It
just goes sliding over a barge, and farewell is the word to THAT
bit of property! "