“Well, you grumbler, shall we have a drink? Or is it time to go home?”
“Home? Where is the home of the man who has no place among men?” asked Yozhov, and shouted again: “Comrades!”
Unanswered, his shout was drowned in the general murmur. Then he drooped his head and said to Foma:
“Let’s go from here.”
“Let’s go. Though I don’t mind sitting a little longer. It’s interesting. They behave so nobly, the devils. By God!”
“I can’t bear it any longer. I feel cold. I am suffocating.”
“Well, come then.”
Foma rose to his feet, removed his cap, and, bowing to the compositors, said loudly and cheerfully:
“Thank you, gentlemen, for your hospitality! Good-bye!”
They immediately surrounded him and spoke to him persuasively: