"What do you mean—'ready'?" said Zakhár.
"Well, now—"
With a groan he started to make the preliminary movement of getting up.
"I forgot to tell you," began Zakhár, "while you were still asleep the manager sent word by the dvórnik that it was imperatively necessary that you vacate the apartment: it is wanted."
"Well, what of that? If the apartment is wanted of course we will move out. Why do you bother me with it? This is the third time you have spoken to me about it."
"They bother me about it also."
"Tell them that we will move out."
"He says, 'For a month you have been promising,' says he, 'and still you don't move out,' says he: 'we'll report the matter to the police.'"
"Let him report," cried Oblómof resolutely: "we will move out as soon as it is a little warmer, in the course of three weeks."
"Three weeks, indeed! The manager says that the workmen are coming in a fortnight: everything is to be torn out. 'Move,' says he, 'either to-morrow or day after to-morrow.'"