He did not feel like going to the table, where three happy people were engaged in a lively conversation.

He heard their merry voices, their contented laughter, the rattle of the dishes, and he understood that, with that burden on his heart, there was no place for him beside them.

Nor was there a place for him anywhere.

If all people only hated him, even as Lubov hated him now, he would feel more at ease in their midst, he thought.

Then he would know how to behave with them, would find something to say to them.