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Автор: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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He found him incredibly inattentive and irritable, though he,
Andrey Semyonovitch, began enlarging on his favourite subject,
the foundation of a new special "commune." The brief remarks that
dropped from Pyotr Petrovitch between the clicking of the beads
on the reckoning frame betrayed unmistakable and discourteous
irony. But the "humane" Andrey Semyonovitch ascribed Pyotr
Petrovitch's ill-humour to his recent breach with Dounia and he
was burning with impatience to discourse on that theme. He had
something progressive to say on the subject which might console
his worthy friend and "could not fail" to promote his
development.
"There is some sort of festivity being prepared at that... at the
widow's, isn't there?" Pyotr Petrovitch asked suddenly,
interrupting Andrey Semyonovitch at the most interesting passage.
"Why, don't you know? Why, I was telling you last night what I
think about all such ceremonies. And she invited you too, I
heard. You were talking to her yesterday..."

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