Everyone was so tired from this alcohol. . .Worse than anyone was Vityushka, he was despairing about Mitya, but for tears a desperate scum-like little hope splashed up, but suddenly? Well suddenly?! Alka, you can consider, was a widow from Stalingrad. And from this little hope he so hated himself, but he could not pull himself together, just as before the war he couldn’t either: he simply saw how she went to the glazed cafe opposite, she knocked back a glass of vodka afterwards, without nibblets, lingered over a roly, and he was lost. She didn’t even look at him of course, he was tall in vain, he was a kid, the youngest in the company, he obeyed everyone, he endured tender leniency, he extended himself with all his strength, adored everyone, was simply obsessed about her after this roly. B
