"I feel disgusted, Aleksandra! If you could only do something with me, eh ?" She looked at him attentively and, seating herself on the bench, shoulder to shoulder with him, said: "Since you feel disgusted--it means that you want something.

What is it you want ?" "I don't know!" replied Foma, nodding his head mournfully.
"Think of it--search." "I am unable to think.

Nothing comes out of my thinking." "Eh, you, my child!" said Sasha, softly and disdainfully, moving away from him.

"Your head is superfluous to you." Foma neither caught her tone nor noticed her movement.

Leaning his hands against the bench, he bent forward, looked at the floor, and, swaying his body to and fro, said: "Sometimes I think and think--and the whole soul is stuck round with thoughts as with tar.