cellar; he crossed the yard slowly, stirring his moustache, his hands in his pockets—the same as always.
Then Tanya came out. Her eyes . . . her eyes were radiant with joy and happiness, and her lips were smiling. And she walked as though in sleep, staggering, with uncertain steps. We could not stand this calmly. We all rushed toward the door, jumped out into the yard, and began to hiss and bawl at her angrily and wildly. On noticing us she trembled and stopped short as if petrified in the mud under her feet. We surrounded her and malignantly abused her in the most obscene language. We told her shameless things.
We did this not loud but slowly, seeing that she could not get away, that she was surrounded by us and we could mock her as much as we
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