"Hold on! you have made me agitated, now calm me." They seized him, surrounded him and shouted something to him while he was rushing forward, overturning everybody.

When he met tactile obstacles on his way the struggle with them gave him ease, uniting all his riotous feelings into one yearning to overthrow that which hindered him.

And now, after he had jostled them all aside and rushed out into the street, he was already less agitated.

Standing on the sidewalk he looked about the street and thought with shame: "How could I permit that swab to mock me and abuse my father as a thief ?" It was dark and quiet about him, the moon was shining brightly, and a light refreshing breeze was blowing.

Foma held his face to the cool breeze as he walked against the wind with rapid strides, timidly looking about on all sides, and wishing that none of the company from the tavern would follow him.