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Updated: May 23, 2025
"A mother has enough tears for everything, everything! If you have a mother, she knows it!" The officer hastily put the papers into his new portfolio with its shining lock. "How independent they all are in your place!" He turned to the police commissioner. "An impudent pack!" mumbled the commissioner. "March!" commanded the officer. "Good-by, Andrey!
Not looking at anyone and speaking slowly in a low voice, Andrey Yefimitch began saying what a pity, what a terrible pity it was that the townspeople should waste their vital energy, their hearts, and their minds on cards and gossip, and should have neither the power nor the inclination to spend their time in interesting conversation and reading, and should refuse to take advantage of the enjoyments of the mind.
Andrey stood at the window with his hands clasped behind his back, listening to Pavel's narrative. Pavel also paced up and down the room. His beard had grown, and small ringlets of thin, dark hair curled in a dense growth around his cheeks, softening the swarthy color of his face. His dark eyes had their stern expression. "Sit down!" said the mother, serving a hot dish.
After supper Andrey Andreitch played the fiddle and Nina Ivanovna accompanied him on the piano. Ten years before he had taken his degree at the university in the Faculty of Arts, but had never held any post, had no definite work, and only from time to time took part in concerts for charitable objects; and in the town he was regarded as a musician.
Andrey Ilyitch, languid with hunger and exhaustion, fell upon the sausage while waiting for the soup to be brought in, and ate it greedily, munching noisily and moving his temples. "My goodness!" thought Sofya Petrovna. "I love and respect him, but . . . why does he munch so repulsively?" The disorder in her thoughts was no less than the disorder in her feelings.
He imagined his father's having suddenly been presented with both the Vladimir and the Andrey today, and in consequence being much better tempered at his lesson, and dreamed how, when he was grown up, he would himself receive all the orders, and what they might invent higher than the Andrey. Directly any higher order were invented, he would win it.
Lavretsky could not stay in the drawing-room; it seemed to him that his great-grandfather Andrey, was looking contemptuously from the canvas at his feeble descendant. "Bah: you swim in shallow water," the distorted lips seemed to be saying. "Is it possible," he thought, "that I cannot master myself, that I am going to give in to this... nonsense?"
"Andriusha!" the mother called from the kitchen. "Come get the samovar. It's ready!" Andrey walked out of the room, and Vyesovshchikov, left alone, looked about, stretched out his foot sheathed in a coarse, heavy boot, looked at it, bent down, and felt the stout calf of his legs. Then he raised one hand to his face, carefully examined the palm, and turned it around.
"Let's go out," said Pavel dreamily. "No, rather stay indoors," replied Andrey. "No need to annoy the eyes of the police so often. They know you well enough." Fedya Mazin came running in, all aglow, with red spots on his cheeks, quivering with youthful joy. His animation dispelled the tedium of expectation for them. "It's begun!" he reported.
Most likely you have had a tiff with Andrey; but lovers' quarrels always end in kisses!" "Oh, go away, mother, oh, go away," sobbed Nadya. "Yes," said Nina Ivanovna after a pause, "it's not long since you were a baby, a little girl, and now you are engaged to be married. In nature there is a continual transmutation of substances.
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