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But it can't be helped, I suppose." "To listen to you one would think that all questions of finance were above our nobility!" Kollomietzev exclaimed. "Oh no! On the other hand the nobility are masters at it. For getting concessions for railways, founding banks, exempting themselves from some tax, or anything like that, there is no one to beat them! They make huge fortunes.
Nejdanov was at a loss for a reply, but just then Kollomietzev was announced. The hostess went to meet him, and a few moments later a servant appeared and announced in a sing-song voice that dinner was ready. At dinner Nejdanov could not keep his eyes off Mariana and Markelov.
Petersburg, in his department, or maybe in higher quarters, but it produced no effect whatever on Solomin. "The nobility cannot manage these things," Solomin repeated. "But why, I should like to know? Why?" Kollomietzev almost shouted. "Because there is too much of the bureaucrat about them." "Bureaucrat?" Kollomietzev laughed maliciously. "I don't think you quite realise what you're saying, Mr.
Just think, Simion Petrovitch," she said, turning to Kollomietzev, "our parrot has simply fallen in love with Mariana!" "I don't wonder at it!" "But he simply can't bear me!" "How extraordinary! Perhaps you tease him." "Oh, no, I never tease him. On the contrary, I feed him with sugar. But he won't take anything out of my hand. It is a case of sympathy and antipathy."
"Yes, we're going to the factory. I want to show all my sins and transgressions to this gentleman, who is an engineer. Allow me to introduce you. Mr. Kollomietzev, a neighbouring landowner, Mr. Solomin." Kollomietzev nodded his head twice in an off-hand manner without looking at Solomin, but the latter looked at him and there was a sinister gleam in his half-closed eyes. "May I come with you?"
Sipiagin was taken aback and looked at him over his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Vassily Fedotitch." "Please don't mention it." As soon as they got outside they ran against Kollomietzev. "Where are you off to?" the latter asked, looking askance at Solomin. "Are you going to the factory? C'est la l'individu en question?" Sipiagin opened his eyes wide and shook his head slightly by way of warning.
Sipiagin and Kollomietzev carried on the conversation. They talked about the county council, the governor, the highway tax, the peasants buying out the land, about mutual Moscow and St.
Petersburg acquaintances, Katkov's lyceum, which was just coming into fashion, about the difficulty of getting labour, penalties, and damage caused by cattle, even of Bismarck, the war of 1866, and Napoleon III., whom Kollomietzev called a hero.
There was a constant inner battle between her and her aunt. Valentina Mihailovna looked upon her as a nihilist and freethinker, and Mariana detested her aunt as an unconscious tyrant. She held aloof from her uncle and, indeed, from everyone else in the house. She held aloof, but was not afraid of them. She was not timid by nature. "Antipathy is a strange thing," Kollomietzev repeated.
Kollomietzev stuck his monocle between his eyebrow and nose and stared at the student who dared not to share his "fears." But it was difficult to embarrass Nejdanov in this way; on the contrary, he instantly sat up straight, and in his turn fixed his gaze on the fashionable official. Just as instinctively as he had felt Mariana to be a comrade, so he felt Kollomietzev to be an enemy!
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