Perfishka smiled incredulously, and looked at Lunev's serious but friendly face.
"You're joking?"
"Believe it or not, it is so. I don't say it to praise you, but only because, so far as I can see, that's my opinion."
"Wonderful! my head's too stupid I'm afraid; did I understand you to say——But let me have a mouthful, perhaps then I'll be cleverer."
"Not so fast!" said Ilya, and caught him by the shirt sleeve. "I want to ask you one thing—do you fear God?"
Perfishka shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, and said in a voice that sounded a little hurt:
"I have no reason to fear God. I do no harm to anyone—never have."
"And now, do you pray?"
"Oh, I pray, of course—not often."
Ilya saw that the cobbler had no desire to talk, and that his whole soul was longing for the tap room.