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Updated: June 13, 2025
Abyedok lay on his belly and coughed, shaking all over his small body. The rest of the dark, silent figures sat and lay around in all sorts of positions, and their tatters made them look like untidy animals, created by some strange, uncouth deity to make a mockery of man. "There once lived a lady in Suzdale, A strange lady, She fell into hysterics, Most unpleasantly!"
Aristid Fomich asked him very softly. "Have you heard about our teacher?" Martyanoff lazily got up from the ground, looked at the line of light coming out of the dosshouse, shook his head and silently sat down beside the Captain. "Nothing particular . . . The man is dying remarked the Captain, shortly. "Have they been beating him?" asked Abyedok, with great interest. The Captain gave no answer.
Aristid Kuvalda abused this pleasure, and never could have enough of it, much to the disgust of Abyedok, Kubar, and others of these creatures that once were men, who were less interested in such things. Politics, however, were more to the popular taste. The discussions as to the necessity of taking India or of subduing England were lengthy and protracted.
That's a determined young thief! ... What will happen next, I wonder ...?" asked Kuvalda. "Next? Young Petunikoff will buy out Egor Vaviloff," said Abyedok with conviction, and smacked his lips as if the idea gave him great pleasure. "And you are glad of that?" Kuvalda asked him, gravely.
Something that will make Judas Petunikoff and his kind tremble and perspire before me!" "Ah! You have a courageous tongue!" jeered Abyedok. "Yes ... You miser!" And Kuvalda looked at him contemptuously. "What do you understand? What do you know? Are you able to think? But I have thought and I have read ... books of which you could not have understood one word." "Of course!
The "creatures that once were men" sprang aside quickly to let the merchant fall. And down he fell at their feet, crying wildly: "Murder! Help! Murder!" Martyanoff slowly raised his foot, and brought it down heavily on the merchant's head. Abyedok spat in his face with a grin. The merchant, creeping on all-fours, threw himself into the courtyard, at which everyone laughed.
"Nothing is needed," said the Captain, decidedly. They sat silently looking at the teacher. "Let us go and drink, old devil!" "But he?" "Can you do him any good?" Tyapa turned his back on the teacher, and both went out into the courtyard to their companions. "What is it?" asked Abyedok, turning his sharp nose to the old man.
One cannot eat soup out of one's hand . . . But though you have read and thought, and I have not done that or anything else, we both seem to have got into pretty much the same condition, don't we?" "Go to the Devil!" shouted Kuvalda. His conversations with Abyedok always ended thus.
"She was thin, but she ate a lot, and even died from over-eating." "You poisoned her, you hunchback!" said Abyedok, confidently. "No, by God I It was from eating sturgeon," said Paltara Taras. "But I say that you poisoned her!" declared Abyedok, decisively.
I care now for nothing and nobody ... and all my life has been tame a sweetheart who has jilted me therefore I despise life, and am indifferent to it." "You lie!" says Abyedok. "I lie?" roars Aristid Kuvalda, almost crimson with anger. "Why shout?" comes in the cold sad voice of Martyanoff. "Why judge others? Merchants, noblemen ... what have we to do with them?"
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