He spoke, and as he recalled the words he said to Medinskaya, the sentiments that called forth the words were also awakened in him.
"I told her, 'Oh, you! why did you make sport of me ?'" he said angrily and with reproach.
And Luba, her cheeks aflame with animation, spurred him on, nodding her head approvingly: "That's it! That's good! Well, and she ?" "She was silent!" said Foma, sadly, with a shrug of the shoulders.

"That is, she said different things; but what's the use ?" He waved his hand and became silent.

Luba, playing with her braid, was also silent.

The samovar had already become cold.

And the dimness in the room was growing thicker and thicker, outside the window it was heavy with darkness, and the black branches of the linden-trees were shaking pensively.
"You might light the lamp," Foma went on.
"How unhappy we both are," said Luba, with a sigh.
Foma did not like this.
"I am not unhappy," he objected in a firm voice.