He
passed whole days and evenings as a habitue of the billiard parlor
in the tavern, always half-tipsy, shedding his little jokes,
jingles and little sayings, acting familiarly with the porters,
with the housekeepers and the girls. In the houses everybody
from the proprietress to the chamber-maids--treated him with a bit
of derision--careless, a trifle contemptuous, but without malice.
At times he was even not without use: he could transmit notes from
the girls to their lovers, and run over to the market or to the
drug-store. Not infrequently, thanks to his loosely hung tongue
and long extinguished self respect, he would worm himself into a
gathering of strangers and increase their expenditures, nor did he
carry elsewhere the money gotten as "loans" on such occasions, but
spent it right here for women--unless, indeed, he left himself
some change for cigarettes. And, out of habit, he was good-
naturedly tolerated.
"And here's Roly-Poly arrived," announced Niura, when he, having
already managed to shake hands amicably with Simeon the porter,
stopped in the doorway of the drawing room, lanky, in a uniform
cap knocked at a brave slant over one side of his head.
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