It is lonesome with you.

You make me sad." Foma lifted his head, looked at her and burst into mournful laughter.
"Really?
Is it possible ?" "You do make me sad! Do you know?
If I should reflect on it, I would understand what you say and why you say it--for I am also of that sort--when the time comes, I shall also think of all this.

And then I shall be lost.

But now it is too early for me.

No, I want to live yet, and then, later, come what will!" "And I--will I, too, be lost ?" asked Foma, indifferently, already fatigued by his words.
"Of course!" replied Sasha, calmly and confidently.