The weather was beginning to be fiercely hot, there were many rumours of cholera and typhus--we, all of us, lost colour and appetite, slept badly and suffered from sudden headaches.
Three days after our arrival at Mittoevo we had all discovered private hostilities and resentments.

I was as bad as any one.

I could not endure the revolutionary student, Ivan Mihailovitch.

I thought him most uncleanly in his habits, and I was compelled to sleep in the same room with him.

Certainly it was true that washing was not one of the most important things in the world to him.