The square was just the same. He remembered the crazy old woman barking. The beggars still stood sentinel there, and were lined up under the archway. Arefiev unhesitatingly gave alms to everyone who was begging. There were even more of them than there had been then, and they were more importunate, as if their faith, or their impudence, had been boosted, more aware of their rights. An eccentric figure was running round the cobbled square, rattling his penitential chains. He suddenly ran straight at them, leaping like a goat and yelling, “Gimme a million! Gimme a million!” Arefiev drove him away by treating him as an object of curiosity, cold-bloodedly aiming the camera at him. He caught the eyes, crafty, lively, and evil. The man jumped back, as if he had only meant to scare them.
Pretendi
