His gesture confused Foma.

He arose from his seat, walked off to the railing and looked down at the deck of the barge, which was covered with an industriously working crowd of people.

The noise intoxicated him, and the uneasy something, which was rambling in his soul, was now defined into a powerful desire to work, to have the strength of a giant, to possess enormous shoulders and put on them at one time a hundred bags of rye, that every one looking at him might be astonished.
"Come now, hurry up there!" he shouted down in a ringing voice.

A few heads were raised to him, some faces appeared before him, and one of them--the face of a dark-eyed woman--smiled at him a gentle and enticing smile.

Something flared up in his breast at this smile and began to spread over his veins in a hot wave.