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Updated: June 16, 2025
'We cannot tell, the soldier cried a second time, in just the same voice. 'All right, you can go, pronounced Pyetushkov. Pyetushkov exchanged glances with Onisim, who at once assumed a look of anxiety. Without a word Ivan Afanasiitch set off to the major's.
'How do you mean nice, though? how nice? how nice? Vassilissa gazed at Ivan Afanasiitch. 'Nice, she said slowly and in perplexity. 'You know what I mean. Pyetushkov bit his lips and began again pacing the room. 'What were you talking about with him, eh? Vassilissa smiled and looked down. 'Speak, speak, speak, I tell you, speak! 'How cross you are to-day! observed Vassilissa.
It would have taken it away in a twinkling. Is your head aching now? 'No, it's not. 'Ah well, and thank Thee, O Lord, for it. Ivan Afanasiitch went off into the back room. Vassilissa saw him. 'Ah! good day, Ivan Afanasiitch. 'Good day, Vassilissa Ivanovna. 'Where have you put the tap, Ivan Afanasiitch? 'Tap? what tap? 'The wine-tap ... our tap. You must have taken it home with you.
'As you please, muttered the fat woman, and she slammed to the window-pane. Ivan Afanasiitch was quite unhinged by his intense vexation. In his perturbation he crossed to the other side of the street, and gave himself up entirely, like a child, to his displeasure. 'Sir! ... he heard a rather agreeable female voice; 'sir! Ivan Afanasiitch raised his eyes.
'What am I thinking about? retorted Onisim; 'what am I thinking about? ... it's always about you. 'About me! 'Of course it's about you. 'Why, what is it you are thinking? 'Ashamed? 'Yes, ashamed.... Look at Mr. Bublitsyn, Ivan Afanasiitch.... Tell me if he's not a fine fellow, now. 'I don't understand you. 'You don't understand me.... Oh yes, you do understand me. Onisim paused. 'Mr.
If I could have known beforehand, I'd have.... 'Oh, go away, do, devil! shrieked Pyetushkov, not stirring from his place, however, nor raising his head. 'Ivan Afanasiitch, for mercy's sake, pursued the ruthless Onisim. 'I'm speaking for your good. Despise her, Ivan Afanasiitch; you simply break it off. Listen to me, or else I'll fetch a wise woman; she'll break the spell in no time.
Onisim was restrained by respect for his master from giving full expression to his feelings. 'That's whom it is you should make friends with. 'Well, I've no objection. Onisim looked approvingly at Ivan Afanasiitch. 'But with what object precisely am I to make friends with her? inquired Pyetushkov. 'What for, indeed! answered Onisim serenely.
Onisim looked up from under his brows at his master. 'And you 're always like this. Yes, positively always. Onisim smiled. 'But what's the good of my asking you where you're going, Ivan Afanasiitch? As though I didn't know! To the girl at the baker's shop! 'There, that's just where you're wrong! that's just where you're mistaken! Not to her at all.
She can't even speak as she ought.... She's simply a baggage! Worse, even! 'Go away, Ivan Afanasiitch moaned into the cushion. 'No, I'm not going away, Ivan Afanasiitch. Who's to speak, if I don't? Why, upon my word! Here, you 're breaking your heart now ... and over what? Eh, over what? tell me that! 'Oh, go away, Onisim, Pyetushkov moaned again.
Pyetushkov began smoking; the pipe wheezed like a broken-winded horse. 'How disgusting! cried Ivan Afanasiitch; 'where's my cherry wood pipe? 'At the baker's shop, Onisim responded tranquilly. Pyetushkov blinked spasmodically. 'Well, you wish me to go for it? 'No, you needn't; don't go ... no need, don't go, do you hear? 'Yes, sir. The night passed somehow.
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