Broken exclamations, wrathful words and oaths descended like hail on iron.

Pavel looked down on the people from his elevation, and with wide-open eyes seemed to be seeking something among them.
"Delegates!" "Let Sizov speak!" "Vlasov!" "Rybin! He has a terrible tongue!" Finally Sizov, Rybin, and Pavel were chosen for the interview with the manager.

When just about to send for the manager, suddenly low exclamations were heard in the crowd: "Here he comes himself!" "The manager ?" "Ah!" The crowd opened to make way for a tall, spare man with a pointed beard, an elongated face and blinking eyes.
"Permit me," he said, as he pushed the people aside with a short motion of his hand, without touching them.

With the experienced look of a ruler of people, he scanned the workingmen's faces with a searching gaze.

They took their hats off and bowed to him.