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〃Do it at once； papa；〃 said the girl。
〃It is necessary to marry you off the sooner。 I am keeping an eye on a certain red…haired fellow。 He doesn't seem to be stupid。 He's been polished abroad； by the way。
〃Is it Smolin； papa？〃 asked Lubov； inquisitively and anxiously。
〃And supposing it is he； what of it？〃 inquired Yakov Tarasovich in a business…like tone。
〃Nothing； I don't know him；〃 replied Lubov； indefinitely。
〃We'll make you acquainted。 It's time； Lubov； it's time。 Our hopes for Foma are poor； although I do not give him up。〃
〃I did not reckon on Fomawhat is he to me？〃
〃That's wrong。 If you had been cleverer perhaps he wouldn't have gone astray！ Whenever I used to see you together； I thought： 'My girl will attract the fellow to herself！ That will be a fine affair！' But I was wrong。 I thought that you would know what is to your advantage without being told of it。 That's the way； my girl！〃 said the father； instructively。
She became thoughtful as she listened to his impressive speech。 Robust and strong； Lubov was thinking of marriage more and more frequently of late； for she saw no other way out of her loneliness。 The desire to forsake her father and go away somewhere in order to study something； to do something。 This desire she had long since overcome； even as she conquered in herself many another longing just as keen； but shallow and indefinite。 From the various books she had read a thick sediment remained within her； and though it was something live it had the life of a protoplasm。 This sediment developed in the girl a feeling of dis…satisfaction with her life； a yearning toward personal independence； a longing to be freed from the heavy guardianship of her father； but she had neither the power to realize these desires； nor the clear conception of their realization。 But nature had its influence on her； and at the sight of young mothers with children in their arms Lubov often felt a sad and mournful languor within her。 At times stopping before the mirror she sadly scrutinized in it her plump； fresh face with dark circles around her eyes； and she felt sorry for herself。 She felt that life was going past her； forgetting her somewhere on the side。 Now listening to her father's words she pictured to herself what sort of man Smolin might be。 She had met him when he was yet a Gymnasium student； his face was covered with freckles； he was snub…nosed； always clean； sedate and tiresome。 He danced heavily； awkwardly； he talked uninterestingly。 A long time had passed since then； he had been abroad； had studied something there； how was he now？ From Smolin her thoughts darted to her brother； and with a sinking heart she thought： what would he say in reply to her letter？ What sort of a man was he？ The image of her brother as she had pictured it to herself prevented her from seeing both her father and Smolin； and she had already made up her mind not to consent to marry before meeting Taras； when suddenly her father shouted to her：
〃Eh； Lubovka！ Why are you thoughtful？ What are you thinking of mostly？〃
〃So； everything goes so swiftly；〃 replied Luba； with a smile。
〃What goes swiftly？〃
〃Everything。 A week ago it was impossible to speak with you about Taras； while now〃
〃'Tis need； my girl！ Need is a power； it bends a steel rod into a spring。 And steel is stubborn。 Taras； we'll see what he is！ Man is to be appreciated by his resistance to the power of life； if it isn't life that wrings him； but he that wrings life to suit himself； my respects to that man！ Allow me to shake your hand； let's run our business together。 Eh； I am old。 And how very brisk life has become now！ With each succeeding year there is more and more interest in it； more and more relish to it！ I wish I could live forever； I wish I could act all the time！〃 The old man smacked his lips； rubbed his hands； and his small eyes gleamed greedily。
〃But you are a thin…blooded lot！ Ere you have grown up you are already overgrown and withered。 You live like an old radish。 And the fact that life is growing fairer and fairer is incomprehensible to you。 I have lived sixty…seven years on this earth； and though I am now standing close to my grave I can see that in former years； when I was young； there were fewer flowers on earth； and the flowers were not quite as beautiful as they are now。 Everything is growing more beautiful！ What buildings we have now！ What different trade implements。 What huge steamers！ A world of brains has been put into everything！ You look and think； what clever fellows you are 0h people！ You merit reward and respect！ You've arranged life cleverly。 Everything is good； everything is pleasant。 Only you； our successors； you are devoid of all live feelings！ Any little charlatan from among the commoners is cleverer than you！ Take that Yozhov； for instance； what is he？ And yet he represents himself as judge over us； and even over life itselfhe has courage。 But you； pshaw！ You live like beggars！ In your joy you are beasts； in your misfortune vermin！ You are rotten！ They ought to inject fire into your veins； they ought to take your skin off and strew salt upon your raw flesh； then you would have jumped！〃
Yakov Tarasovich； small…sized； wrinkled and bony； with black； broken teeth in his mouth； bald…headed and dark； as though burned by the heat of life and smoked in it； trembled in vehement agitation； showering jarring words of contempt upon his daughter； who was young； well…grown and plump。 She looked at him with a guilty expression in her eyes； smiled confusedly； and in her heart grew a greater and greater respect for the live old man who was so steadfast in his desires。
。。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。 。
And Foma went on straying and raving； passing his days and nights in taverns and dens； and mastering more and more firmly his contemptuously…hateful bearing toward the people that surrounded him。 At times they awakened in him a sad yearning to find among them some sort of resistance to his wicked feeling； to meet a worthy and courageous man who would cause him to blush with shame by his burning reproach。 This yearning became clearereach time it sprang up in him it was a longing for assistance on the part of a man who felt that he had lost his way and was perishing。
〃Brethren！〃 he cried one day； sitting by the table in a tavern； half…intoxicated； and surrounded by certain obscure and greedy people； who ate and drank as though they had not had a piece of bread in their mouths for many a long day before。
〃Brethren！ I feel disgusted。 I am tired of you！ Beat me unmercifully； drive me away！ You are rascals； but you are nearer to one another than to me。 Why？ Am I not a drunkard and a rascal as well？ And yet I am a stranger to you！ I can see I am a stranger。 You drink out of me and secretly you spit upon me。 I can feel it！ Why do you do it？〃
To be sure； they could treat him in a different way。 In the depth of his soul perhaps not one of them considered himself lower than Foma； but he was rich； and this hindered them from treating him more as a companion； and then he always spoke certain comically wrathful； conscience…rending words； and this embarrassed them。 Moreover； he was strong and ready to fight； and they dared not say a word against him。 And that was just what he wanted。 He wished more and more intensely that one of these people he despised would stand up against him； face to face； and would tell him something strong； which； like a lever； would turn him aside from the sloping road； whose danger he felt； and whose filth he saw； being filled with helpless aversion for it。
And Foma found what he needed。
One day； irritated by the lack of attention for him； he cried to his drinking…companions：
〃You boys； keep quiet； every one of you！ Who gives you to drink and to eat？ Have you forgotten it？ I'll bring you in order！ I'll show you how to respect me！ Convicts！ When I speak you must all keep quiet！〃
And； indeed； all became silent； either for fear lest they might lose his good will； or； perhaps； afraid that he； that healthy and strong beast； might beat them。 They sat in silence about a minute； concealing their anger at him； bending over the plates and attempting to hide from him their fright and embarrassment。 Foma measured them with a self…satisfied look； and gratified by their slavish submissiveness； said boastfully：
〃Ah！ You've grown dumb now； that's the way！ I am strict！ I〃
〃You sluggard！〃 came some one's calm； loud exclamation。
〃Wha…at？〃 roared Foma； jumping up from his chair。 〃Who said that？〃
Then a certain； strange； shabby…looking man arose at the end of the table； he was tall； in a long frock…coat； with a heap of grayish hair on his large head。 His hair was stiff； standing out in all directions in thick locks； his face was yellow； unshaven； with a long； crooked nose。 To Foma it seemed that he resembled a swab with which the steamer decks are washed； and this amused the half…intoxicated fellow。
〃How fine！〃 said he； sarcastically。 〃What are you snarling at； eh？ Do you know who I am？〃
With the gesture of a tragic actor the man stretched out to Foma his hand； with its long； pliant fingers like those of a juggler； and he said in a deep hoarse basso：
〃You are the rotten disease of y