"The very thing!" cried Ivanoff. "Let's go there."

So they went to the little inn and bought vodka and fresh gherkins from
the woman with the red kerchief.

"Aha! you seem to be pretty flush of money, my friend," said Ivanoff,
as Sanine produced his purse.

"I've had an advance," replied the latter, smiling. "Much to my
mother's annoyance, I have accepted the secretaryship of an assurance
agency. In this way I was able to get a little cash as well as maternal
contempt."

When they regained the high-road, Ivanoff exclaimed: "Oh! I feel ever so much better now!"

"So do I. Suppose we take off our boots?"

"All right."

Having taken off their boots and socks, they walked barefoot through
the warm, moist sand, which was a delightful experience after trudging
along in heavy boots.

"Jolly, isn't it?" said Sanine, as he drew a deep breath.

The sun's rays had now become far hotter. The town lay well in their
rear as the two wayfarers plodded bravely on towards the blue, nebulous
horizon. Swallows sat in rows on the telegraph-wires. A passenger-train
with its blue, yellow and green carriages rolled past on the adjacent
line, and the faces of drowsy travellers could be seen at the windows.

Two saucy-looking girls in white hats stood on the platform at the end
of the train and watched the two bare-footed men with astonishment.
Sanine laughed at them, and executed a wild impromptu dance.