Book 2 Chapter 36 The Tender Mercies of the Lord

Nekhludoff kept up with the quick pace of the convicts. Though
lightly clothed he felt dreadfully hot, and it was hard to
breathe in the stifling, motionless, burning air filled with
dust.

When he had walked about a quarter of a mile he again got into
the trap, but it felt still hotter in the middle of the street.
He tried to recall last night's conversation with his
brother-in-law, but the recollections no longer excited him as
they had done in the morning. They were dulled by the impressions
made by the starting and procession of the gang, and chiefly by
the intolerable heat.

On the pavement, in the shade of some trees overhanging a fence,
he saw two schoolboys standing over a kneeling man who sold ices.
One of the boys was already sucking a pink spoon and enjoying his
ices, the other was waiting for a glass that was being filled
with something yellowish.

"Where could I get a drink?" Nekhludoff asked his isvostchik,
feeling an insurmountable desire for some refreshment.

"There is a good eating-house close by," the isvostchik answered,
and turning a corner, drove up to a door with a large signboard.
The plump clerk in a Russian shirt, who stood behind the counter,
and the waiters in their once white clothing who sat at the
tables (there being hardly any customers) looked with curiosity
at the unusual visitor and offered him their services. Nekhludoff
asked for a bottle of seltzer water and sat down some way from
the window at a small table covered with a dirty cloth. Two men
sat at another table with tea-things and a white bottle in front
of them, mopping their foreheads, and calculating something in a
friendly manner. One of them was dark and bald, and had just such
a border of hair at the back as Rogozhinsky. This sight again
reminded Nekhludoff of yesterday's talk with his brother-in-law
and his wish to see him and Nathalie.