"You go to Mayakin and flatter him, perhaps something will come
your way!"
Smolin whistled through his teeth and stepped aside. And the
merchants began to disperse on the steamer, one by one. This
irritated Foma still more he wished he could chain them to the
spot by his words, but he could not find such powerful words.
"You have built up life!" he shouted. "Who are you?
Swindlers, robbers."
A few men turned toward Foma, as if he had called them.
"Kononov! are they soon going to try you for that little girl?
They'll convict you to the galleys. Goodbye, Ilya! You are
building your steamers in vain. They'll transport you to Siberia
on a government vessel."
Kononov sank into a chair; his blood leaped to his face, and he
shook his fist in silence. Foma said hoarsely:
"Very well. Good. I shall not forget it."
Foma saw his distorted face with its trembling lips, and
understood with what weapons he could deal these men the most
forcible blows.
"Ha, ha, ha! Builders of life! Gushchin, do you give alms to your
little nephews and nieces? Give them at least a copeck a day.
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