he had lived just anywhere, and had done just anything; at work one
day, and idle the next; it was also plain that he liked drinking, and
knew a good deal about women. But life such as this had nothing dark or
sinister about it; in no way did it resemble the life she imagined her
brother had led. He had no ideas to live for; he hated no one; and for
no one had he suffered. At some of his disclosures she was positively
annoyed, especially when he told her that once, being very hard up, he
was obliged to mend his torn trousers himself.

"Why, do you know how to sew?" she asked involuntarily, in a tone of
surprise and contempt. She thought it paltry; unmanly, in fact.

"I did not know at first, but I soon had to learn," replied Sanine, who
smilingly guessed what his sister thought.

The girl carelessly shrugged her shoulders, and remained silent, gazing
at the garden. It seemed to her as if, dreaming of sunshine, she awoke
beneath a grey, cold sky.

Her mother, too, felt depressed. It pained her to think that her son
did not occupy the position to which, socially, he was entitled. She
began by telling him that things could not go on like this, and that he
must be more sensible in future. At first she spoke warily, but when
she saw that he paid scarcely any attention to her remarks, she grew
angry, and obstinately insisted, as stupid old women do, thinking her
son was trying to tease her. Sanine was neither surprised nor annoyed:
he hardly seemed to understand what she said, but looked amiably
indifferent, and was silent.

Yet at the question, "How do you propose to live?" he answered,