Both in the galleys and in hell they have long been weeping and longing for him, waiting for him impatiently." "He speaks with weight," said Foma, thoughtfully, stirring his tea.
"Did he abuse me ?" inquired Mayakin, with a malicious grimace.
"Somewhat." "And what did you do ?" "I listened." "Mm! And what did you hear ?" "'The strong,' he says, 'will be forgiven; but there is no forgiveness for the weak.'" "Just think of it! What wisdom! Even the fleas know that." For some reason or another, the contempt with which Mayakin regarded Shchurov, irritated Foma, and, looking into the old man's face, he said with a grin: "But he doesn't like you." "Nobody likes me, my dear," said Mayakin, proudly.

"There is no reason why they should like me.

I am no girl.

But they respect me.

And they respect only those they fear." And the old man winked at his godson boastfully.
"He speaks with weight," repeated Foma.