But somehow everything became confused in his brain, he found no thoughts in it and, finally, without giving himself an account of his words, said angrily: "All you want is to drink all the time! It makes no difference to you what you do! You should have thought--why?
to what purpose?
Eh, you!" There was an expression of perplexity on the faces of those that surrounded him, blue and red, bearded figures began to sigh, scratch themselves, shift themselves from one foot to another.

Others cast a hopeless glance at Foma and turned away.
"Yes, yes!" said the contractor, with a sigh.

"That wouldn't harm! That is--to think--why and how.

These are words of wisdom." The light-haired fellow had a different opinion on the matter; smiling kind-heartedly, he waved his hand and said: "We don't have to think over our work! If we have it--we do it! Our business is simple! When a rouble is earned--thank God! we can do everything." "And do you know what's necessary to do ?" questioned Foma, irritated by the contradiction.
"Everything is necessary--this and that." "But where's the sense ?" "There's but one and the same sense in everything for our class--when you have earned for bread and taxes--live! And when there's something to drink, into the bargain." "Eh, you!" exclaimed Foma, with contempt.

"You're also talking! What do you understand ?" "Is it our business to understand ?" said the light-haired fellow, with a nod of the head.