Yes, I tell you my days on earth are numbered.
Indeed, it is high time to prepare myself for death; to cast
everything aside; to fast, and see to it that people bear me good-
will."
"They will!" said Foma with confidence.
"If there were but a reason why they should."
"And the lodging-house?"
Ignat looked at his son and began to laugh.
"Yakov has had time to tell it to you already! The old miser. He
must have abused me?"
"A little." Foma smiled.
"Of course! Don't I know him?"
"He spoke of it as though it were his own money."
Ignat leaned back in his chair and burst into still louder laughter.
"The old raven, eh? That's quite true. Whether it be his own money
or mine, it is all the same to him. There he is trembling now. He
has an aim in view, the bald-headed fellow. Can you tell me what it
is?"
Foma thought awhile and said:
"I don't know."
"Eh, you're stupid. He wants to tell our fortunes."
How is that?"
"Come now, guess!"
Foma looked at his father and--guessed it. His face became gloomy, he
slightly raised himself from the armchair and said resolutely:
"No, I don't want to.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171