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Updated: June 13, 2025
It often happened, that having said something absolutely impossible and without proof, he kept on repeating it, beginning in a childish, capricious tone, and gradually raising his voice to a mad shriek. The Deacon stood up for his friend. "No; he did not poison her. He had no reason to do so." "But I say that he poisoned her!" swore Abyedok.
He did not even once look in their direction. "The young spider has himself well in hand," remarked Abyedok, watching young Petunikoff's every movement and action. Having taken all the measurements he desired, Ivan Andreyevitch knit his brows, got into the cart, and drove away. His son went with a firm step into Vaviloff's eating-house, and disappeared behind the door. "Ho, ho!
"Well, let everything go to the Devil as quickly as possible. I'm sure I should be pleased if the earth suddenly opened up or was burned or destroyed somehow .. only I were left to the last in order to see the others consumed ..." "Ferocious creature!" smiled Abyedok. "Well, what of that? I ... I was once a man .. now I am an outcast ... that means I have no obligations.
"Is it not all the same whatever we say or think? We have not got long to live ... I am forty, you are fifty ... there is no one among us younger than thirty, and even at twenty one cannot live such a life long." "And what kind of novelty are we?" asked Abyedok, mockingly. "Since nakedness has always existed ..." "Yes, and it created Rome," said the teacher.
He was drinking vodki at the moment. "They must have known we had something in which to commemorate him after his death!" continued Abyedok, lighting a cigarette. Someone laughed, someone sighed. Generally speaking, the conversation of Abyedok and the Captain did not interest them, and they hated having to think at all.
The thin lips, when opened, exposed two rows of decayed black teeth, and the rags on his shoulders swayed backward and forward as if they were hung on a clothes pole. They called him "Abyedok." He hawked brushes and bath brooms of his own manufacture, good, strong brushes made from a peculiar kind of grass.
"Well, let everything go to the Devil as quickly as possible. I'm sure I should be pleased if the earth suddenly opened up or was burned or destroyed somehow . . . only I were left to the last in order to see the others consumed. . . ." "Ferocious creature!" smiled Abyedok. "Well, what of that? I . . . I was once a man . . . now I am an outcast . . . that means I have no obligations.
The foolish face of Meteor, who was lying on the ground, showed that he was drinking in the Deacon's strong words. Martyanoff sat, clasping his large hairy hands round his knees, looking silently and sadly at the bottle of vodki and pulling his moustache as if trying to bite it with his teeth, while Abyedok was teasing Tyapa. "I have seen you watching the place where your money is hidden!"
"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! It was from eating sturgeon," said Paltara Taras. "But I say that you poisoned her!" declared Abyedok, decisively.
After that I gave her ten roubles, and beat her according to my own rules till I married again!" "You are lying, Deacon! How could you marry a second time?" interrupted Abyedok. "Ay, just so . . . She looked after my house . . ." "Did you have any children?" asked the teacher. "Five of them . . . One was drowned . . . the oldest . . . he was an amusing boy!
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