ten at night
Night pressed us between the two walls , spattered with spots of mud and all mouldy . We got up at five in the morning and , stupid and indifferent , began work at six o'clock . We made bread out of the dough which our comrades had prepared while we slept . The whole day , from dawn till ten at night , some of us sat at the table rolling out the dough , and , to avoid becoming torpid , we would constantly rock ourselves to and fro while the others kneaded in the flour . The enormous oven , which resembled a fantastic beast , opened its large jaws , full of dazzling flames , and breathed forth upon us its hot breath , while its two black and enormous cavities watched our unending work ... `` Thus , from one day to the next , in the floury dust , in the mud that our feet brought in from the yard , in the suffocating and terrible heat , we rolled out the dough and made cracknels , moistening them with our sweat ; we hated our work with an implacable hatred ; we never ate what we made , preferring black bread to these odorous dainties . '' * * * * * At this period of his life , he had occasion to study at first hand certain places where he received original information which he later used in writing `` Konovalov '' and `` The Ex-Men , '' which have thus acquired an autobiographical value . In fact , he worked a long while with these `` ex-men ; '' like them , he sawed wood , and carried heavy burdens .