Veslovsky played worse than the others.

He was too eager, but he kept the players lively with his high spirits.

His laughter and outcries never paused.

Like the other men of the party, with the ladies' permission, he took off his coat, and his solid, comely figure in his white shirt-sleeves, with his red perspiring face and his impulsive movements, made a picture that imprinted itself vividly on the memory.