And Lubov, with knitted brow, leaning toward him, listened to his words with eager attention in her eyes, ready to accept everything and imbibe it into her soul.
"Well, and suppose everything is repulsive to a man ?" asked Foma, suddenly, in a deep voice, casting a glance at Taras's face.
"But what, in particular, is repulsive to the man ?" asked Mayakin, calmly, without looking at Foma.
Foma bent his head, leaned his arms against the table and thus, like a bull, went on to explain himself: "Nothing pleases him--business, work, all people and deeds.

Suppose I see that all is deceit, that business is not business, but merely a plug that we prop up with it the emptiness of our souls; that some work, while others only give orders and sweat, but get more for that.

Why is it so?
Eh ?" "I cannot grasp your idea," announced Taras, when Foma paused, feeling on himself Lubov's contemptuous and angry look.
"You do not understand ?" asked Foma, looking at Taras with a smile.
"Well, I'll put it in this way: A man is sailing in a boat on the river.

The boat may be good, but under it there is always a depth all the same.

The boat is sound, but if the man feels beneath him this dark depth, no boat can save him." Taras looked at Foma indifferently and calmly.