Even the knowledge that he would not be able to finish this game, did not stop him; and the morning of the last day that he was to remain on earth he started by correcting a not altogether successful move he had made on the previous day.

Clasping his lowered hands between his knees, he sat for a long time motionless, then he rose and began to walk, meditating.
His walk was peculiar: he leaned the upper part of his body slightly forward and stamped the ground with his heels firmly and distinctly.

His steps usually left deep, plain imprints even on dry ground.

He whistled softly, in one breath, a simple Italian melody, which helped his meditation.
But this time for some reason or other the thing did not work well.
With an unpleasant feeling that he had made some important, even grave blunder, he went back several times and examined the game almost from the beginning.

He found no blunder, yet the feeling about a blunder committed not only failed to leave him, but even grew ever more intense and unpleasant.