Grandad Burlak, he says, "The lad will give up the ghost.

Stand a bottle of the sweet sort, or we shall have you taken up!" They bought more drink, and boozed and boozed--' 'Yes, but did it hurt you much ?' Olenin asked once more.
'Hurt, indeed! Don't interrupt: I don't like it.

Let me finish.

We boozed and boozed till morning, and I fell asleep on the top of the oven, drunk.

When I woke in the morning I could not unbend myself anyhow--' 'Was it very painful ?' repeated Olenin, thinking that now he would at last get an answer to his question.
'Did I tell you it was painful?
I did not say it was painful, but I could not bend and could not walk.' 'And then it healed up ?' said Olenin, not even laughing, so heavy was his heart.
'It healed up, but the bullet is still there.