Simtsoff was
silent, only adding that he would find a place sooner than any of
them, because women loved him. This was true. The old man had,
as a rule, two or three prostitutes, who kept him on their very
scant earnings. They very often beat him, but he took this
stoically. They somehow never beat him too much, probably
because they pitied him. He was a great lover of women, and said
they were the cause of all his misfortunes. The character of his
relations towards them was confirmed by the appearance of his
clothes, which, as a rule, were tidy, and cleaner than those of
his companions. And now, sitting at the door of the dosshouse,
he boastingly related that for a long time past Redka had been
asking him to go and live with her, but he had not gone because
he did not want to part with the company. They heard this with
jealous interest. They all knew Redka. She lived very near the
town, almost below the mountain. Not long ago, she had been in
prison for theft. She was a retired nurse; a tall, stout peasant
woman, with a face marked by smallpox, but with very pretty,
though always drunken, eyes.
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