"Indeed, it is interesting since it is about myself," he added, smiling kindheartedly at his comrade.
In saying this he was not at all interested, and he said it merely out of pity for Yozhov.

There was quite another feeling in him; he wished to know what sort of a man Yozhov was, and why he had become so worn out.

This meeting with Yozhov gave rise in him to a tranquil and kind feeling; it called forth recollections of his childhood, and these flashed now in his memory,--flashed like modest little lights, timidly shining at him from the distance of the past.

Yozhov walked up to the table on which stood a boiling samovar, silently poured out two glasses of tea as strong as tar, and said to Foma: "Come and drink tea.

And tell me about yourself." "I have nothing to tell you.