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"Oh, it is you, Pelagea!" said the huntsman, stopping and deliberately uncocking the gun. "H'm!... How have you come here?" "The women from our village are working here, so I have come with them.... As a labourer, Yegor Vlassitch." "Oh..." growled Yegor Vlassitch, and slowly walked on. Pelagea followed him. They walked in silence for twenty paces.
And only when the lamp was lighted in the big drawing-room upstairs, and Burkin and Ivan Ivanovitch, attired in silk dressing-gowns and warm slippers, were sitting in arm-chairs; and Alehin, washed and combed, in a new coat, was walking about the drawing-room, evidently enjoying the feeling of warmth, cleanliness, dry clothes, and light shoes; and when lovely Pelagea, stepping noiselessly on the carpet and smiling softly, handed tea and jam on a tray only then Ivan Ivanovitch began on his story, and it seemed as though not only Burkin and Alehin were listening, but also the ladies, young and old, and the officers who looked down upon them sternly and calmly from their gold frames.
When Pelagea takes us for a walk before dinner we go to the Apfel Restaurant, and there is father waiting for us. . . . He is always sitting in a room apart, where you know there's a marble table and an ash-tray in the shape of a goose without a back. . . ." "What do you do there?" "Nothing! First we say how-do-you-do, then we all sit round the table, and father treats us with coffee and pies.
There was nothing left for the assistant procurator but to acknowledge himself in the wrong and go back to his spouse. "I say, Pelagea," he said, "you had my dressing-gown to brush. Where is it?" "Oh, I am so sorry, sir; I forgot to put it on your chair. It's hanging on a peg near the stove." Gagin felt for the dressing-gown by the stove, put it on, and went quietly back to his room.
I am a free, pampered, profligate man, while you are a working woman, going in bark shoes and never straightening your back. The way I think of myself is that I am the foremost man in every kind of sport, and you look at me with pity.... Is that being well matched?" "But we are married, you know, Yegor Vlassitch," sobbed Pelagea. "Not married of our free will.... Have you forgotten?
I hope to goodness mother won't find out, or we should all catch it Sonia, and I, and Pelagea . . . . Well, listen. . . Sonia and I see father every Tuesday and Friday.
Nikolay Timofeitch, a graceful dark young man, fashionably dressed, with frizzled hair and a big pin in his cravat, has already cleared a place on the counter and is craning forward, looking at Polinka with a smile. "Morning, Pelagea Sergeevna!" he cries in a pleasant, hearty baritone voice. "What can I do for you?" "Good-morning!" says Polinka, going up to him.
Once he also possessed a friend named Pelagea Antonovna. Do you know Pelagea Antonovna? She is the woman who always puts on her petticoat wrong side outwards." What humour, Barbara what purest humour! We rocked with laughter when he read it aloud to us. Yes, that is the kind of man he is.
Ivan Ivanovitch and Burkin were met in the house by a maid-servant, a young woman so beautiful that they both stood still and looked at one another. "You can't imagine how delighted I am to see you, my friends," said Alehin, going into the hall with them. "It is a surprise! Pelagea," he said, addressing the girl, "give our visitors something to change into. And, by the way, I will change too.
Fyodor asked in a husky voice. "I should put her under a glass case on my work-table. I should admire her and show her to other people. You know, Pelagea Ivanovna, we have no women like you there. Among us there is wealth, distinction, sometimes beauty, but we have not this true sort of life, this healthy serenity...." My uncle sat down facing Tatyana Ivanovna and took her by the hand.
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