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"It isn't secrets; but I ought not to be frivolous. De-e-evil! But then, this affair enlivened me. Indeed, Nemesis is even then true to herself when she simply kicks like a horse." Foma stopped suddenly, as though he had met an obstacle on his way. "Nemesis the goddess of Justice," babbled Ookhtishchev. "What's the matter with you?"
"Foma Ignatyevich!" said Ookhtishchev in a faint, but sober voice, "look out, this is a dangerous joke. I'll make a complaint." "When you are drowned? You may complain!" answered Foma, cheerfully. "You are a murderer!" exclaimed Zvantzev, sobbing. But at this time a ringing splash of water was heard as though it groaned with fright or with astonishment.
"And will he soon fall into your hands?" inquired Foma, naively. "It is hard to tell. Being far from stupid, he will probably never be caught, and to the end of his days he will live with you and me in the same degree of equality before the law. Oh God, what I am telling you!" said Ookhtishchev, with a comical sigh. "Betraying secrets?" grinned Foma.
The sun of my life is setting. And, perhaps, of yours as well?" Ookhtishchev made a comical, sly grimace and looked into Foma's face. And Foma stood before him, feeling that his head was lowering on his breast, and that he was unable to hinder it. "Yes, the radiant Aurora." "Is Medinskaya going away?" a deep bass voice asked. "That's fine! I am glad." "May I know why?" exclaimed Ookhtishchev.
"I said, co-cot-te," pronounced the whiskered man, moving his lips as if he tasted the word. "And if you don't understand it, I can explain it to you." "You had better explain it," said Foma, with a deep sigh, not lifting his eyes off the man. Ookhtishchev clasped his hands and rushed aside.
Let's go immediately to a pleasure-house I know. Two sisters live there. Ah, how they live! You will come?" "Well, I'll go," said Foma, calmly, and yawned. "Isn't it rather late?" he asked, looking up at the sky which was covered with clouds. "It's never too late to go to see them!" exclaimed Ookhtishchev, merrily.
I wish to ask the gentleman, what is the meaning of the word he said?" And as he articulated this firmly and calmly, Foma thrust his hands deep into his trousers-pockets, threw his chest forward, which at once gave his figure an attitude of defiance. The whiskered gentleman again eyed Foma with a sarcastic smile. "Gentlemen!" exclaimed Ookhtishchev, softly.
There was something intensely pathetic in the powerlessness of this strong and savage youth, who suddenly started to pace the sidewalk with big, uneven steps. Skipping along after him with his short legs, Ookhtishchev felt it his duty somehow to calm Foma.
The song filled his heart with thirst for tenderness and, still full of charming sounds, it quivered, but at the touch of her arm he felt awkward and ashamed before the other people. "Bravo-o! Bravo, Aleksandra Sarelyevna!" shouted Ookhtishchev, and the others were clapping their hands.
He recalled her caresses and thought: "How does she come to be such as she is? It is even fearful to be with her." Ookhtishchev, sitting close to his lady, an expression of happiness on his face, listened to the song and was radiant with satisfaction. The gentleman with the side whiskers and Zvantzev were drinking wine, softly whispering something as they leaned toward each other.
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