A lad began crossing himself; three or four men actually did try to kneel down, but the whole mass moved three steps forward, and suddenly all began talking at once: "Your Excellency...

we were hired for a term...

the manager...

you mustn't say," and so on and so on.

It was impossible to distinguish anything.
Alas! Andrey Antonovitch could distinguish nothing: the flowers were still in his hands.