"Yes, there's a bit in it I've just read. Oh! well!"
And the philosopher made a face as though something had scalded him. Ilya looked at his friend as at a person half idiotic. Sometimes Jakov seemed to him absolutely blind. He took him for an unlucky man, unfit to cope with life.
The gossip ran in the house, and it was all over the street already, that Petrusha was going to marry his mistress, who kept a public house in the town. But Jakov paid absolutely no attention. When Ilya asked him when the wedding was to be, he said:
"Whose wedding?"
"Why, your father's."
"Oh! who's to know? disgusting! A pretty witch he's chosen!"
"Do you know she has a son—a big boy, who goes to the High School?"
"No, I didn't know. Why?"
"He'll come in for your father's property."
"Oh!" said Jakov, indifferently, then with a sudden interest, "A son, you say?"