il he transgresses the limits of the penal code. But even
then, not you, but we, the judges, will give him his due. While you must
have patience."

"And will he soon fall into your hands?" inquired Foma, naively.

"It is hard to tell. Being far from stupid, he will probably never be
caught, and to the end of his days he will live with you and me in the
same degree of equality before the law. Oh God, what I am telling you!"
said Ookhtishchev, with a comical sigh.

"Betraying secrets?" grinned Foma.

"It isn't secrets; but I ought not to be frivolous. De-e-evil! But then,
this affair enlivened me. Indeed, Nemesis is even then true to herself
when she simply kicks like a horse."

Foma stopped suddenly, as though he had met an obstacle on his way.

"Nemesis--the goddess of Justice," babbled Ookhtishchev. "What's the
matter with you?"

"And it all came about," said Foma, slowly, in a dull voice, "because
you said that she was going away."

"Who?

"Sophya Pavlovna."

"Yes, she is going away. Well?"

He stood opposite Foma and stared at him, with a smile in his eyes.
Gordyeeff was silent, with lowered head, tapping the stone of the
sidewalk with his cane.

"Come," said Ookhtishchev.

Foma started, saying indifferently:

"Well, let her go. And I am alone." Ookhtishchev, waving his cane, began
to whistle, looking at his companion.

"Sha'n't I be able to get along without her?" asked Foma, looking
somewhere in front of him and then, after a pause, he answered himself
softly and irresolutely:

"Of course, I shall."

"Listen to me!" exclaimed Ookhtishchev. "I'll give you some good advice.
A man must be himself. While you, you are an epic man, so to say, and
the lyrical is not becoming to you. It isn't your genre."

"Speak to me more simply, sir," said Foma, having listened attentively
to his words.

"More simply? Very well. I want to say, give up thinking of this little
lady. She is poisonous food for you."

"She told me the same," put in Foma, gloomily.

"She told you?" Ookhtishchev asked and became thoughtful. "Now, I'll
tell you, shouldn't we perhaps go and have supper?"

"Let's go," Foma assented. And he suddenly roared obdurately, clinching
his fists and waving them in the air: "Well, let us go, and I'll get
wound up; I'll break loose, after all this, so you can't hold me back!"

"What for? We'll do it modestly."

"No! wait!" said Foma, anxiously, seizing him by the shoulder. "What's
that? Am I