“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?” “And it all came about,” said Foma, slowly, in a dull voice, “because you said that she was going away.” “Who? “Sophya Pavlovna.” “Yes, she is going away. Well?” He stood opposite Foma and stared at him, with a smile in his eyes. Gordyeeff was silent, with lowered head, tapping the stone of the sidewalk with his cane. “Come,” said Ookhtishchev. Foma started, saying indifferently: “Well, let her go. And I am alone.” Ookhtishchev, waving his cane, began to whistle, looking at his companion. “Sha’n’t I be able to get along without her?” asked Foma, looking somewhere in front of him and then, after a pause, he answered himself softly and irresolutely: “Of course, I shall.” “Listen to me!” exclaimed Ookhtishchev. “I’ll give you some good advice. A man must be himself. While you, you are an epic man, so to say, and the lyrical is not becoming to you. It isn’t your genre.” “Speak to me more simply, sir,” said Foma, having listened attentively to his words. “More simply? Very well. I want to say, give up thinking of this little lady. She is poisonous food for you.” “She told me the same,” put in Foma, gloomily. “She told you?” Ookhtishchev asked and became thoughtful. “Now, I’ll tell you, shouldn’t we perhaps go and have supper?” “Let’s go,” Foma assented. And he suddenly roared obdurately, clinching his fists and waving them in the air: “Well, let us go, and I’ll get wound up; I’ll break loose, after all this, so you can’t hold me back!” “What for? We’ll do it modestly.” “No! wait!” said Foma, anxiously, seizing him by the shoulder. “What’s that? Am I worse than other people? Everybody lives, whirls, hustles about, has his own point. While I am weary. Everybody is satisfied with himself. And as to their complaining, they lie, the rascals! They are simply pretending for beauty’s sake. I have no reason to pretend. I am a fool. I don’t understand anything, my dear fellow. I simply wish to live! I am unable to think. I feel disgusted; one says this, another that! Pshaw! But she, eh! If you knew. My hope was in her. I expected of her--just what I expected, I cannot tell; but she is the best of women! And I had so much faith in her--when sometimes she spoke such peculiar words, all her own. Her eyes, my dear boy, are so beautiful! Oh Lord! I was ashamed to look upon them, and as I am telling you, she would say a few words, and everything would become clear to me. For I did not come to her with love alone--I came to her with all my soul! I sought--I thought that since she was so beautiful, consequently, I might become a man by her side!”