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Updated: June 16, 2025
'Impossible! exclaimed Ivan Afanasiitch. 'Sold out, repeated Onisim; 'there's a breakfast at the Marshal's, so they've all gone there, you know. Onisim waved his hand in the air, and thrust his right foot forward. Ivan Afanasiitch walked up and down the room, dressed, and set off himself to the baker's shop.
But in this world nothing is perfect, and, small as a man's requirements may be, destiny never quite fulfils them, and positively spoils the whole thing, if possible.... The spoonful of pitch is sure to find its way into the barrel of honey! Ivan Afanasiitch experienced this in his case.
'Well, then, what about our walk? Vassilissa looked slily at him and giggled again. 'Do you belong to these parts? 'Yes. Vassilissa passed her hand over her hair and walked a little more slowly. Ivan Afanasiitch smiled, and, his heart inwardly sinking with timidity, he stooped a little on one side and put a trembling arm about the beauty's waist. Vassilissa uttered a shriek.
'Why so, why so? Bublitsyn stuck his pipe in the corner of his mouth, and began scrutinising his not very handsome boots. Pyetushkov felt embarrassed. 'Ah, Ivan Afanasiitch, Ivan Afanasiitch! pursued Bublitsyn, as though sparing his feelings. 'But as to Vassilissa, the baker girl, I can assure you: a very, ve-ry fine girl, ... ve-ry. Mr.
'Who's that? my grandmother inquired of Filippitch, who was walking on tiptoe behind her. 'Of whom ... you are pleased ... Filippitch stammered. 'Oh, fool! I mean the one that looked so sullenly at me. There, standing yonder, not working. 'Oh, him! Yes ... th ... th ... that's Yermil, son of Pavel Afanasiitch, now deceased.
Ivan Afanasiitch broke off. He gasped for breath. 'Listen, Vassilissa, he said at last. 'You know I'm a kind-hearted man, you know it, don't you, Vassilissa, don't you? 'Yes, I do, she said faltering. 'I do nobody any harm, nobody, nobody in the world. And I deceive nobody. Why are you deceiving me? 'But I'm not deceiving you, Ivan Afanasiitch. 'You aren't deceiving me? Oh, very well!
Poor Pyetushkov felt a pang at his heart. Praskovia Ivanovna came in. They sat down to dinner. After dinner Praskovia Ivanovna betook herself to the shelf bed. Ivan Afanasiitch himself lay down on the stove, turned over and dropped asleep. A cautious creak waked him. Ivan Afanasiitch sat up, leaned on his elbow, looked: the door was open. He jumped up no Vassilissa.
He had hardly time to look twice at the too well-known 'establishment, when suddenly the little gate opened, and Vassilissa ran out with a yellow kerchief on her head and a jacket flung after the Russian fashion on her shoulders. Ivan Afanasiitch at once overtook her. 'Where are you going, my dear? Vassilissa glanced swiftly at him, laughed, turned away, and put her hand over her lips.
The young ladies even looked at him with gentle amiability, as at a man whose acquaintance they would not object to.... The good, sleek, quiet horses went by Ivan Afanasiitch at a gentle trot; the carriage rolled smoothly along the broad road, carrying with it good-humoured, girlish laughter; he caught a final glimpse of Mr.
And she did not even ask if I were well. Never even said, "Is Ivan Afanasiitch quite well?" She hasn't seen me for two whole days and not a sign.... She's even again, maybe, thought fit to meet that Bub Lucky fellow. Ouf, devil take it, what a fool I am! Pyetushkov got up, paced up and down the room in silence, stood still, knitted his brows slightly and scratched his neck.
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