“What makes father bother himself about him?”
At the sight of Foma he stopped short, staring at his face with a serious, searching look. An expression of agitation was clearly depicted on Lubov’s face, and she said with dissatisfaction and at the same time apologetically:
“Ah! So it’s you?”
“They’ve been speaking of me,” thought Foma, as he seated himself at the table. Taras turned his eyes away from him and sank deeper in the armchair. There was an awkward silence lasting for about a minute, and this pleased Foma.
“Are you going to the banquet?”
“What banquet?”
“Don’t you know? Kononov is going to consecrate his new steamer. A mass will be held there and then they are going to take a trip up the Volga.”
“I was not invited,” said Foma.
“Nobody was invited. He simply announced on the Exchange: ‘Anybody who wishes to honour me is welcome!
“I don’t care for it.”