“On another occasion he was carousing on a steamer with a company of people like himself. Suddenly he said to them: ‘Pray to God! I’ll fling every one of you overboard!’ He is frightfully strong. They screamed, while he said: ‘I want to serve my country. I want to clear the earth of base people.’”
“Really? That’s clever!”
“He’s a terrible man! How many wild pranks he has perpetrated during these years! How much money he has squandered!”
“And, tell me, on what conditions does father manage his affairs for him? Do you know?”
“No, I don’t. He has a full power of attorney. Why do you ask?”
“Simply so. It’s a solid business. Of course it is conducted in purely Russian fashion; in other words, it is conducted abominably. But it is a splendid business, nevertheless. If it were managed properly it would be a most profitable gold mine.”
“Foma does absolutely nothing. Everything is in father’s hands.”
“Yes? That’s fine.”
“Do you know, sometimes it occurs to me that his thoughtful frame of mind—that these words of his are sincere, and that he can be very decent. But I cannot reconcile his scandalous life with his words and arguments. I cannot do it under any circumstances!”
“It isn’t even worthwhile to bother about it. The stripling and lazy bones seeks to justify his laziness.”