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Updated: June 3, 2025
Grigori Aleksandrovich, as I think I have already mentioned, was passionately fond of hunting; he was always craving to be off into the forest after boars or wild goats but now it would be as much as he would do to go beyond the fortress rampart. All at once, however, I saw that he was beginning again to have fits of abstraction, walking about his room with his hands clasped behind his back.
What won't a woman do for a coloured rag!... But that is by the way... For a long time Grigori Aleksandrovich persevered with her, and meanwhile he studied the Tartar language and she began to understand ours.
I asked Maksim Maksimych. "His name was Grigori Aleksandrovich Pechorin. He was a splendid fellow, I can assure you, but a little peculiar. Why, to give you an instance, one time he would stay out hunting the whole day, in the rain and cold; the others would all be frozen through and tired out, but he wouldn't mind either cold or fatigue.
I possessed a little piece of Circassian stuff, and I covered the coffin with it, and decked it with some Circassian silver lace which Grigori Aleksandrovich had bought for Bela herself. "Early next morning we buried her behind the fortress, by the river, beside the spot where she had sat for the last time. Around her little grave white acacia shrubs and elder-trees have now grown up.
In vain Pechorin kissed her cold lips it was impossible to bring her to. "Pechorin mounted; I lifted Bela from the ground and somehow managed to place her before him on his saddle; he put his arm round her and we rode back. "'Look here, Maksim Maksimych, said Grigori Aleksandrovich, after a few moments of silence. 'We will never bring her in alive like this.
So soon as ever I learned that the Circassian girl was with Grigori Aleksandrovich, I put on my epaulettes and sword and went to see him. "He was lying on the bed in the outer room, with one hand under his head and the other holding a pipe which had gone out. The door leading to the inner room was locked, and there was no key in the lock.
On our arrival at the fortress the devil put it into my head to repeat to Grigori Aleksandrovich all that I had heard when I was eavesdropping behind the fence. He laughed cunning fellow! and thought out a little plan of his own." "What was that? Tell me, please." "Well, there's no help for it now, I suppose. I've begun the story, and so I must continue.
Grigori Aleksandrovich yelled like any Chechene, whipped his gun from its cover, and gave chase I after him. "Luckily, thanks to our unsuccessful hunt, our horses were not jaded; they strained under the saddle, and with every moment we drew nearer and nearer... At length I recognised Kazbich, only I could not make out what it was that he was holding in front of him.
'They are not at all the same as the Georgian or the Transcaucasian Tartar women not at all! They have their own principles, they are brought up differently. "Grigori Aleksandrovich smiled and began to whistle a march to himself." "AS things fell out, however," continued Maksim Maksimych, "I was right, you see. The presents produced only half an effect.
She suffered terribly, and groaned; and directly the pain began to abate she endeavoured to assure Grigori Aleksandrovich that she felt better, tried to persuade him to go to bed, kissed his hand and would not let it out of hers. Before the morning she began to feel the death agony and to toss about. She knocked the bandage off, and the blood flowed afresh.
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