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Updated: June 1, 2025
Anna Akimovna suddenly felt ashamed that her cheeks were burning and that every one was looking at her; she flung the cards together on the table and ran out of the room.
On the walls hung hammers, pliers, awls, chisels, nippers, and so on, and there were three hanging clocks which were ticking; one was a big clock with thick weights, such as one sees in eating-houses. As she sat down to write the letter, Anna Akimovna saw facing her on the table the photographs of her father and of herself. That surprised her. "Who lives here with you?" she asked.
Now from his beefy and bloated face and from his bloodshot eyes it could be seen that he had been drinking continually from November till Christmas. "Forgive me, Anna Akimovna," he brought out in a hoarse voice, striking his forehead on the floor and showing his bull-like neck. "It was Auntie dismissed you; ask her."
Her father, Akim Ivanovitch, had been the brother of the factory owner, and yet he had been afraid of foremen like this lodger and had tried to win their favour. "Excuse me for having come in here in your absence," said Anna Akimovna. The workman looked at her in surprise, smiled in confusion and did not speak. "You must speak a little louder, madam . . . ." said Tchalikov softly. "When Mr.
Generals, and officers and gentlemen. . . . I kept looking out of window and counting and counting till I gave it up." "I'd as soon they did not come at all," said Auntie; she looked sadly at her niece and added: "They only waste the time for my poor orphan girl." Anna Akimovna felt hungry, as she had eaten nothing since the morning.
Would you like to marry Pimenov?" Stinging Beetle asked Anna Akimovna. "Very good. Make a match for me with Pimenov." "Really?" "Yes, do!" Anna Akimovna said resolutely, and she struck her fist on the table. "On my honour, I will marry him." "Really?"
"If he were sat down to dinner today with Viktor Nikolaevitch and the general, he'd have died of fright." Mishenka's shoulders were shaking with laughter. "He doesn't know even how to hold his fork, I bet." The footman's laughter and words, his reefer jacket and moustache, gave Anna Akimovna a feeling of uncleanness.
Guessing that they were talking about her, she blushed to tears. "The postmen have come," she muttered. "And there is a clerk called Tchalikov waiting below. He says you told him to come to-day for something." "What insolence!" said Anna Akimovna, moved to anger. "I gave him no orders. Tell him to take himself off; say I am not at home!" A ring was heard. It was the priests from her parish.
Anna Akimovna gave him five roubles, while poor Masha was numb with ecstasy. His holiday get-up, his attitude, his voice, and what he said, impressed her by their beauty and elegance; as she followed her mistress she could think of nothing, could see nothing, she could only smile, first blissfully and then bitterly.
But he felt comfortable, snug, warm. Anna Akimovna seemed to him enchanting, original, and he imagined that the pleasant sensation that was aroused in him by these surroundings was the very thing that was called platonic love. He laid his cheek on her hand and said in the tone commonly used in coaxing little children: "My precious, why have you punished me?" "How? When?"
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