out plaintively:

"Gentlemen, drop that! It isn't good! For we are all sinners! Decidedly
all, believe me!"

"Well, speak on!" muttered Foma. "Say everything! I won't touch you."

The mirrors on the walls reflected this drunken confusion, and the
people, as reflected in the mirrors, seemed more disgusting and hideous
than they were in reality.

"I do not want to speak!" exclaimed the coupletist, "I do not want to
cast the pearls of truth and of my wrath before you."

He rushed forward, and raising his head majestically, turned toward the
door with tragic footsteps.

"You lie!" said Foma, attempting to follow him. "Hold on! you have made
me agitated, now calm me."

They seized him, surrounded him and shouted something to him while
he was rushing forward, overturning everybody. When he met tactile
obstacles on his way the struggle with them gave him ease, uniting all
his riotous feelings into one yearning to overthrow that which hindered
him. And now, after he had jostled them all aside and rushed out into
the street, he was already less agitated. Standing on the sidewalk he
looked about the street and thought with shame:

"How could I permit that swab to mock me and abuse my father as a
thief?"

It was dark and quiet about him, the moon was shining brightly, and
a light refreshing breeze was blowing. Foma held his face to the cool
breeze as he walked against the wind with rapid strides, timidly looking
about on all sides, and wishing that none of the company from the tavern
would follow him. He understood that he had lowered himself in the eyes
of all these people. As he walked he thought of what he had come to: a
sharper had publicly abused him in disgraceful terms, while he, the
son of a well-known merchant, had not been able to repay him for his
mocking.

"It serves me right!" thought Foma, sadly and bitterly. "That serves
me right! Don't lose your head, understand. And then again, I wanted
it myself. I interfered with everybody, so now, take your share!" These
thoughts made him feel painfully sorry for himself. Seized and sobered
by them he kept on strolling along the streets, and searching for
something strong and firm in himself. But everything within him was
confused; it merely oppressed his heart, without assuming any definite
forms. As in a painful dream he reached the river, seated himself on the
beams by the shore, and began to look at the calm dark water, which was
covered with tiny ripples. Calm