I could free myself from everything with a single effort: just to move my body with all my strength, and then all the fetters will burst!" "And what then ?" asked Yozhov.
"Then ?" Foma became pensive, and, after a moment's thought, waved his hand.

"I don't know what will be then.

I shall see!" "We shall see!" assented Yozhov.
He was given to drink, this little man who was scalded by life.

His day began thus: in the morning at his tea he looked over the local newspapers and drew from the news notices material for his feuilleton, which he wrote right then and there on the corner of the table.

Then he ran to the editorial office, where he made up "Provincial Pictures" out of clippings from country newspapers.