He looked at the open door of the cupboard from which Paul Alexis had taken his simple disguise, with a large, tolerant humor.
"El Senor Don Quixote de la Mancha," he said sleepily.
It is said that to a doctor nothing is shocking and nothing is disgusting.

But doctors are, after all, only men of stomach like the rest of us, and it is to be presumed that what nauseates one will nauseate the other.

When the starosta unceremoniously threw open the door of the miserable cabin belonging to Vasilli Tula, Paul gave a little gasp.

The foul air pouring out of the noisome den was such that it seemed impossible that human lungs could assimilate it.

This Vasilli Tula was a notorious drunkard, a discontent, a braggart.