Luka Alexandritch staggered and instinctively, taught by experience, tried to keep as far from the gutter as possible.
"In sin my mother bore me," he muttered.
"And you, Kashtanka, are a thing of little understanding.
Beside a man, you are like a joiner beside a cabinetmaker."
Fedyushka walked beside him, wearing his father's cap.
Kashtanka looked at their backs, and it seemed to her that she had been following them for ages, and was glad that there had not been a break for a minute in her life.
She remembered the little room with dirty wall-paper, the gander, Fyodor Timofeyitch, the delicious dinners, the lessons, the circus, but all that seemed to her now like a long, tangled, oppressive dream.