He turned his head and saw several idle youths walking towards him.
A lean man with a newsboy cap approached him, tilting his head, continually doing oral gymnastics, restlessly moving his hands and feet, at times lifting his shirt to expose his belly, at times rubbing his face, a blade of grass in his mouth, looking at the blacksmith, he asked,
"Just now, were you chatting with Polina?"
The blacksmith didn't speak. His ugly purple eyes were obscured by fat, it was unclear what he was thinking.
"No words? Fine, you're something—do you know that Polina, that woman, I've got my eye on her?" The lean man said with a smirk,
"You just live by the river, right? Take a look at yourself, what you look like. If not, have a look in the latrine. Lucky for you Polina likes to play, otherwise how would you manage if you scared someone?"
As he spoke, he scratched his neck, saying,
