"Who are you?
Swindlers, robbers." A few men turned toward Foma, as if he had called them.
"Kononov! are they soon going to try you for that little girl?
They'll convict you to the galleys.

Goodbye, Ilya! You are building your steamers in vain.

They'll transport you to Siberia on a government vessel." Kononov sank into a chair; his blood leaped to his face, and he shook his fist in silence.

Foma said hoarsely: "Very well.Good.I shall not forget it." Foma saw his distorted face with its trembling lips, and understood with what weapons he could deal these men the most forcible blows.
"Ha, ha, ha! Builders of life! Gushchin, do you give alms to your little nephews and nieces?
Give them at least a copeck a day.

You have stolen sixty-seven thousand roubles from them.