He had been too much spoiled by life, to regard more plainly the first drop of poison from the cup which was just started, and he passed all the time of the journey without sleep, pondering over the old man's words and fondling his grudge.

This grudge, however, did not awaken in him despondency and sorrow, but rather a feeling of anger and revenge.
Foma was met by his godfather, and to his hasty and agitated question, Mayakin, his greenish little eyes flashing excitedly, said when he seated himself in the carriage beside his godson: "Your father has grown childish." "Drinking ?" "Worse--he has lost his mind completely." "Really?
Oh Lord! Tell me." "Don't you understand?
A certain lady is always around him." "What about her ?" exclaimed Foma, recalling his Pelageya, and for some reason or other his heart was filled with joy.
"She sticks to him and--bleeds him." "Is she a quiet one ?" "She?
Quiet as a fire.

Seventy-five thousand roubles she blew out of his pocket like a feather!" "Oh! Who is she ?" "Sonka Medinskaya, the architect's wife." "Great God! Is it possible that she--Did my father--Is it possible that he took her as his sweetheart ?" asked Foma, with astonishment, in a low voice.
His godfather drew back from him, and comically opening his eyes wide, said convincedly: "You are out of your mind, too! By God, you're out of your mind! Come to your senses! A sweetheart at the age of sixty-three! And at such a price as this.

What are you talking about?
Well, I'll tell this to Ignat." And Mayakin filled the air with a jarring, hasty laughter, at which his goat-like beard began to tremble in an uncomely manner.

It took Foma a long time to obtain a categorical answer; the old man, contrary to his habit, was restless and irritated; his speech, usually fluent, was now interrupted; he was swearing and expectorating as he spoke, and it was with difficulty that Foma learned what the matter was.