“It isn’t secrets; but I ought not to be frivolous. De-e-evil! But then, this affair enlivened me. Indeed, Nemesis is even then true to herself when she simply kicks like a horse.”
Foma stopped suddenly, as though he had met an obstacle on his way.
“Nemesis—the goddess of Justice,” babbled Ookhtishchev. “What’s the matter with you?”
“And it all came about,” said Foma, slowly, in a dull voice, “because you said that she was going away.”
“Who?
“Sophya Pavlovna.”
“Yes, she is going away. Well?”
He stood opposite Foma and stared at him, with a smile in his eyes. Gordyeeff was silent, with lowered head, tapping the stone of the sidewalk with his cane.
“Come,” said Ookhtishchev.
Foma started, saying indifferently: