The sun had just risen, the air was fresh and invigorating and
densely filled with the odour of pines; the calm water of the
river, reflecting the clear sky, was gently murmuring, breaking
against the sides of the vessels and the chains of the anchors.
The loud and cheerful noise of toil, the youthful beauty of nature,
gaily illumined by the sunbeams--all was full of a kind-hearted,
somewhat crude, sound power, which pleasantly stirred Foma's soul,
awakening in him new and perplexed sensations and desires. He was
sitting by the table under the awning of the steamer and drinking
tea, together with Yefim and the receiver of the corn, a provincial
clerk--a redheaded, short-sighted gentleman in glasses. Nervously
shrugging his shoulders the receiver was telling in a hoarse voice
how the peasants were starving, but Foma paid little attention to
his words, looking now at the work below, now at the other side of
the river--a tall, yellow, sandy steep shore, whose edges were
covered with pine trees. It was unpeopled and quiet.
"I'll have to go over there," thought Foma.
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