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"
"Well, why do you blame it all on the new boy?" asked Smolin, in
a low voice, without even turning his head to them.
"All right, all right," hissed Yozhov.
Foma was silent, looking askance at his brisk neighbour, who at
once pleased him and roused in him a desire to get as far as
possible away from him. During recess he learned from Yozhov that
Smolin, too, was rich, being the son of a tan-yard proprietor,
and that Yozhov himself was the son of a guard at the Court of
Exchequer, and very poor. The last was clearly evident by the
adroit boy's costume, made of gray fustian and adorned with
patches on the knees and elbows; by his pale, hungry-looking
face; and, by his small, angular and bony figure. This boy spoke in
a metallic alto, elucidating his words with grimaces and
gesticulations,
and he often used words whose meaning was known but to himself.
"We'll be friends," he announced to Foma.
"Why did you complain to the teacher about me?" Gordyeeff
reminded Yozhov, looking at him suspiciously.
"There! What's the difference to you? You are a new scholar and
rich.


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