But it is one of his bad days; the wealthy lords pass and do not so much as glance at his shop.

"The bells of the holy churches have finished chiming for Vespers.

The cloudy glow of evening burneth behind the Kremlin.

Little clouds are flitting athwart the sky.

The great Gostiny Dvor[16] is empty." And Stepan Paramonovitch locks the oaken door of his shop with a German (that is, a foreign) spring-lock, fastens the fierce, snarling dog to the iron chain, and goes thoughtfully home to his young housewife beyond the Moscow River.