his family, the
clerks had to subscribe and present a cake from Fley's, or an album.
The clerks lived three or four in a room in the lower storey, and
in the lodges of the house in Pyatnitsky Street, and at dinner ate
from a common bowl, though there was a plate set before each of
them. If one of the family came into the room while they were at
dinner, they all stood up.

Laptev was conscious that only, perhaps, those among them who had
been corrupted by the old man's training could seriously regard him
as their benefactor; the others must have looked on him as an enemy
and a "planter." Now, after six months' absence, he saw no change
for the better; there was indeed something new which boded nothing
good. His brother Fyodor, who had always been quiet, thoughtful,
and extremely refined, was now running about the warehouse with a
pencil behind his ear making a show of being very busy and businesslike,
slapping customers on the shoulder and shouting "Friends!" to the
clerks. Apparently he had taken up a new role, and Alexey did not
recognise him in the part.

The old man's voice boomed unceasingly. Having nothing to do, he
was laying down the law to a customer, telling him how he should
order his life and his business, always holding himself up as an
example. That boastfulness, that aggressive tone of authority,
Laptev had heard ten, fifteen, twenty years ago. The old man adored
himself; from what he said it always appeared that he had made his
wife and all her relations happy, that he had been munificent to
his children, and a benefactor to his clerks and employes, and that
every one in the street and all his acquaintances remembered him
in their prayers. Whatever he did was always right, and if things
went wrong with people it was because they did not take his advice;
without his advice nothing could succeed. In church he stood in the
foremost place, and even made observations to the priests, if in
his opinion they were not conducting the service properly, and
believed that this was pleasing God because God loved him.

At two o'clock every one in the warehouse was hard at work, except
the old man, who still went on booming in his deep voice. To avoid
standing idle, Laptev took some trimmings from a workgirl and let
her go; then listened to a customer, a merchant from Vologda, and
told a clerk to attend to him.

"T. V. A.!" resounded on all sides (prices were denoted by letters
in the warehouse and goods by numbers