Here they stood, surrounding him in a dense throng, and he could not see anything for them.

They were calm, firm, treating him as a drunkard and a turbulent fellow, and were plotting something against him.

He felt himself pitiful, insignificant, crushed by that dark mass of strong-souled, clever and sedate people.

It seemed to him that a long time had passed since he had abused them, so long a time that he himself seemed as a stranger, incapable of comprehending what he had done to these people, and why he had done it.

He even experienced in himself a certain feeling of offence, which resembled shame at himself in his own eyes.