Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 13, 2025
Poverty and suffering had made them hard and the sight of this stranger with so much gold was too much for them. So it was a plate full of death cups which Andrei's wife cooked for the brown-faced stranger with the loud laugh. And they stood about and watched him eat them. Then he died, as Andrei knew he must die. But the old woman hid in the cow-shed until it was over, for it took some time.
He looked round to make sure that none could overhear. "It was I who shot that Italian dog, Pietro Andrei," he mentioned in confidence, "on the road below Olmeta but that was a personal matter." "Ah!" said Lory, who had heard the story of Andrei's death on the market-place at Olmeta, and the stern determination of his widow to avenge it. "Yes I was starving, and Andrei had money on him.
Several times he had the most sudden and inexplicable sort of fainting fits, from which he used to recover the next day, but completely lost his memory for a time. Seeing my brother Andrei's children, who were staying at Yasnaya, in the zala one day, he asked with some surprise, "Whose children are these?"
A gypsy by descent, passionate and vindictive in temper, she refused to yield in any thing to her husband, who all but brought her to her grave, and whom, although she had been eternally squabbling with him, she could net bear long to survive. Andrei's son, Peter, our Fedor's grandfather, did not take after his father.
Plain, deformed, meagre with staring and severe eyes, and with thin, compressed lips she, in her face and her voice, and in her angular and quick movements, resembled her grandmother, the gipsy Andrei's wife. Obstinate, and fond of power, she would not even hear of marriage. Ivan Petrovich's return home was by no means to her taste.
For a long while she kept twisting a twig in her hand; she bent her head, and uttered: 'Andrei Nikolaevitch.... I noticed at once, by the twitching of her lips, that she was getting ready to cry, and began consoling her, assuring her hotly of Andrei's devotion.... She heard me, nodded her head mournfully, articulated some indistinct words, and then was silent but did not cry.
In her face, her voice, and her quick angular movements, she took after her grandmother, the gipsy, Andrei's wife. Obstinate and fond of power, she would not even hear of marriage.
"Quite like old times," he said to himself, remembering the days of Louis Philippe. He knelt down beside the dead man, and perhaps the attitude reminded him of his calling; for he fell to praying, and made the gesture of the cross over Andrei's head. Then suddenly he leapt to his feet, and shook his lean fist out towards the valley and St. Florent, as if he knew whence this trouble came.
Indeed, Pietro Andrei's death seemed to be nobody's business, though we are told that not so much as a sparrow may fall unheeded. The Abbe Susini was coming now a little fiery man, with the walk of one who was slightly bow-legged, though his cassock naturally concealed this defect.
'I have done my duty, I thought; 'I have overcome my own egoism; I have urged Andrei to go back to Varia!... Now I am in the right; he that will not when he may...! At the same time Andrei's indifference wounded me.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking