Chapter 24: Boots

Boots A piano-tuner called Murkin, a close-shaven man with a yellow face, with a nose stained with snuff, and cotton-wool in his ears, came out of his hotel room into the passage, and in a cracked voice cried: “Semyon! Waiter!” And looking at his frightened face one might have supposed that the ceiling had fallen in on him or that he had just seen a ghost in his room. “Upon my word, Semyon!” he cried, seeing the attendant running towards him. “What is the meaning of it? I am a rheumatic…