And before its death this society, cursed by the anathema of inward impotence, will receive my book like incense." Listening to each and every word of his, watching him and comparing his remarks, Foma saw that Yozhov was just as weak as he was, that he, too, had lost his way.

But Yozhov's mood still infected Foma, his speeches enriched Foma's vocabulary, and sometimes he noticed with joyous delight how cleverly and forcibly he had himself expressed this or that idea.

He often met in Yozhov's house certain peculiar people, who, it seemed to him, knew everything, understood everything, contradicted everything, and saw deceit and falsehood in everything.

He watched them in silence, listened to their words; their audacity pleased him, but he was embarrassed and repelled by their condescending and haughty bearing toward him.

And then he clearly saw that in Yozhov's room they were all cleverer and better than they were in the street and in the hotels.