And then I shall be lost. But now it is too early for me.
No, I want to live yet, and then, later, come what will!"
"And I--will I, too, be lost?" asked Foma, indifferently, already
fatigued by his words.
"Of course!" replied Sasha, calmly and confidently. "All such
people are lost. He, whose character is inflexible, and who has
no brains--what sort of a life is his? We are like this."
"I have no character at all," said Foma, stretching himself. Then
after a moment's silence he added:
"And I have no brains, either."
They were silent for a minute, eyeing each other.
"What are we going to do?" asked Foma.
"We must have dinner."
"No, I mean, in general? Afterward?"
"Afterward? I don't know?"
"So you are leaving me?"
"I am. Come, let's carouse some more before we part. Let's go to
Kazan, and there we'll have a spree--smoke and flame! I'll sing
your farewell song."
"Very well," assented Foma. "It's quite proper at leave taking.
Eh, you devil! That's a merry life! Listen, Sasha. They say that
women of your kind are greedy for money; are even thieves.
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