Nekhludoff had to pass on his way, a dense crowd was surging

along the row of booths, and tattered men walked about selling

top-boots, which they carried under their arms, and renovated

trousers and waistcoats, which hung over their shoulders.

Men in clean coats and shining boots, liberated from the

factories, it being Sunday, and women with bright silk kerchiefs

on their heads and cloth jackets trimmed with jet, were already

thronging at the door of the traktir. Policemen, with yellow