"I know," Walter says, and he probably looks rather foolish in that moment, both because he had to ponder whether oblomov is some variation on blob like a couch potato or something (he's suddenly despondent he can't remember that petty liberal Type Of Guy. He thinks it starts with a G), and because it's only several seconds after that, that it really sinks in Pyotr was trying to hurt him in turn. He's not entirely lost his softness. Quite literally, Walter could afford to not care what people think.

"I'm sorry. That's what I meant! That you should be out there, with your comrades, who get it, and are scouring the lands, for... not tied down by, you know... deeds..."

There's a lot he could say - about Pyotr getting to decide what he does, how that's more natural than living as a rich man's pet, about Malcolm convinced Walter has regrets - that he turns away from all at once with a wistful glance to the window. They are tied down. "But I guess should doesn't mean anything."

And he bends back down to his puzzle.