“I’ve been telling her about the dinner,” Foma interrupted his godfather’s words.
“Aha! So-o-o. Well, then, I’ll also speak about the dinner. I have been watching you of late. You don’t behave yourself sensibly!”
“What do you mean?” asked Foma, knitting his brow, ill pleased.
“I just mean that your behaviour is preposterous, and that’s all. When the governor, for instance, speaks to you, you keep quiet.”
“What should I tell him? He says that it is a misfortune to lose a father. Well, I know it. What could I tell him?”
“But as the Lord willed it so, I do not grumble, your Excellency. That’s what you should have said, or something in this spirit. Governors, my dear, are very fond of meekness in a man.”
“Was I to look at him like a lamb?” said Foma, with a smile.
“You did look like a lamb, and that was unnecessary. You must look neither like a lamb, nor like a wolf, but just play off before him as though saying: ‘You are our father, we are your children,’ and he will immediately soften.”
“And what is this for?”
“For any event. A governor, my dear, can always be of use somewhere.”