in a rather greasy striped Caucasian jacket, a faded lilac silk-tie, a
waistcoat with copper buttons, and grey trousers shaped like huge
funnels, from under which the toes of unbrushed shoes could just be
discerned. He smelt strongly of tobacco and spirits; on his fat, red
hands, almost hidden in his sleeves, could be seen silver and Tula
rings. Such figures are met in Russia not by dozens, but by hundreds; an
acquaintance with them is not, to tell the truth, productive of any
particular pleasure; but in spite of the prejudice with which I looked
at the new-comer, I could not fail to notice the recklessly good-natured
and passionate expression of his face.

'This gentleman's been waiting more than an hour here too,' observed the
overseer indicating me.

More than an hour! The rascal was making fun of me.

'But perhaps he doesn't need them as I do,' answered the new comer.

'I know nothing about that,' said the overseer sulkily.

'Then is it really impossible? Are there positively no horses?'

'Impossible. There's not a single horse.'

'Well, tell them to bring me a samovar. I'll wait a little; there's
nothing else to be done.'

The new comer sat down on the bench, flung his cap on the table, and
passed his hand over his hair.