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Updated: June 24, 2025
"How rich and beautiful our prayers are, are they not?" asked Medinskaya. "Yes," said Foma, shortly, without understanding her words and feeling that he was blushing again. "They will always be opponents of our commercial interests," Mayakin whispered loudly and convincingly, standing beside the city mayor, not far from Foma. "What is it to them?
And somehow, without perceiving it himself, he suddenly understood and resolved that he ought to go up to Sophya Pavlovna and tell her plainly, openly, just what he wanted of her that's all! He even felt a certain joy at this resolution, and he boldly started off to Medinskaya, thinking on the way only how to tell her best all that was necessary.
These relations were established between them within a short time; after two or three meetings Medinskaya was in full possession of the youth and she slowly began to torture him.
It took root within his heart, but did not fill it up, for Foma's relations toward Medinskaya assumed that character, which they were bound to assume. He longed for her, he always yearned to see her; while in her presence he became timid, awkward and stupid; he knew it and suffered on this account.
I understand everything!" "The heart. Man has a heart," sighed the youth. Mayakin winked his eyes and said: "Then he has no mind." WHEN Foma arrived in the city he was seized with sad, revengeful anger. He was burning with a passionate desire to insult Medinskaya, to abuse her.
The maid brought in the samovar, and the conversation was interrupted. Luba made tea in silence while Foma looked at her and thought of Medinskaya. He was wishing to have a talk with her. "Yes," said the girl, thoughtfully, "I am growing more and more convinced everyday that it is hard to live. What shall I do? Marry? Whom?
It is impossible not to love you!" said he hotly, and immediately added sadly, lowering his voice: "But you don't need it!" "There you have it!" sighed Medinskaya, satisfied, drawing back from him. "I am always extremely pleased to hear you say this, with so much youthfulness and originality. Would you like to kiss my hand?"
Generally the youth regarded Medinskaya with adoration, admiring everything in her her beauty, her words, her dresses. And beside this adoration there was in him a painfully keen consciousness of his remoteness from her, of her supremacy over him.
At the very edge of the floating raft stood Sasha, with her back toward Foma; he looked at her beautiful figure and involuntarily recalled Medinskaya. The latter was smaller in size. The recollection of her stung him, and he cried out in a loud, mocking voice: "Eh, there! Good-bye! Ha! ha! ha!"
Foma moved his chair closer to her, and stooping, he lowered his voice for some reason or other, and began to relate to her all that had taken place between him and Medinskaya. He spoke, and as he recalled the words he said to Medinskaya, the sentiments that called forth the words were also awakened in him. "I told her, 'Oh, you! why did you make sport of me?" he said angrily and with reproach.
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