At times there sprang up in him distrust of Yozhov, and in one of these moments he asked him plainly: "Well! And can you speak like that in the face of men ?" "I do it at every convenient occasion.

And every Sunday in the newspaper.

I'll read some to you if you like." Without waiting for Foma's reply, he tore down from the wall a few sheets of paper, and still continuing to run about the room, began to read to him.

He roared, squeaked, laughed, showed his teeth and looked like an angry dog trying to break the chain in powerless rage.

Not grasping the ideals in his friend's creations, Foma felt their daring audacity, their biting sarcasm, their passionate malice, and he was as well pleased with them as though he had been scourged with besoms in a hot bath.
"Clever!" he exclaimed, catching some separate phrase.