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"
"Well, my lad, that will do!" said Shchurov, sternly. "Though you
consider yourself quite clever, it is rather too soon. You've
gained nothing, and already you began to boast! But you just win
from me--then you may shout for joy. Goodbye. Have all the money
for tomorrow."
"Don't let that trouble you. Goodbye!"
"God be with you!"
When Foma came out of the room he heard that the old man gave a
slow, loud yawn, and then began to hum in a rather hoarse bass:
"Open for us the doors of mercy. Oh blessed Virgin Mary!"
Foma carried away with him from the old man a double feeling.
Shchurov pleased him and at the same time was repulsive to him.
He recalled the old man's words about sin, thought of the power of
his faith in the mercy of the Lord, and the old man aroused in Foma
a feeling akin to respect.
"He, too, speaks of life; he knows his sins; but does not weep over
them, does not complain of them. He has sinned--and he is willing
to stand the consequences. Yes. And she?" He recalled Medinskaya,
and his heart contracted with pain.


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