Oblomov had been unprepared, and was quite taken aback.
"That was a cruel advantage," he murmured.
"No—only a small revenge (and an unpremeditated one) for your failure to have had a compliment ready."
"Then perhaps I will have one ready when I have heard you sing."
"You wish me to sing, then?"
"No; he wishes it." Oblomov pointed to Schtoltz.
"But what of yourself?"
Oblomov shook his head deprecatingly.
"I could not wish for what I have not yet experienced," he said.
"You are very rude, Ilya," put in Schtoltz. "See what comes of lolling about at home and confining your efforts to having your socks put on for you."
"Pardon me," said Oblomov quickly, and without giving him time to finish. "I should find it no trouble to say: 'I shall be most glad, most delighted, to hear you sing, for of course you sing perfectly.' So," he went on, "'it will afford me the very greatest possible pleasure.' But do you really think it necessary?"
"At least you might express a desire
