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"I'd burn everything!" he roared, staring wildly into some dark corner of the room. "I'd destroy everything! I'd blow it up with dynamite!" "Enough, you ugly brute! Do you wish to frighten the child? Or do you want him to take sick?" interposed Anfisa, and that was sufficient for Ignat to rush off hastily, muttering: "Well, well, well! I am going, I am going, but don't cry! Don't make any noise.
At times he would load his father with questions about everything that passed before them. Ignat answered him willingly and concisely, but the boy was not pleased with his answers; they contained nothing interesting and intelligible to him, and he did not hear what he longed to hear. Once he told his father with a sigh: "Auntie Anfisa knows better than you."
If I'd only waited a month before marrying you to Mitia, nothing of this would have happened. Directly after the death of Anfisa I would have sent my friends to propose for you, and all would have been right! Right before the law; without sin, without shame. That was my mistake, and this mistake will take away from me five or ten years of my life.
I'll pay it in there for you with pleasure. I liked that old fellow, Russian to the core, de la vraie souche. I went home in raptures, but took another road in order to avoid Peter. Immediately on arriving I sent up the bouquet for Anfisa to see when she awoke. "You may imagine her ecstasy, her gratitude.
And yet Foma did not even notice his absence, so absorbed was he by his love for Aunt Anfisa. When Ignat returned the boy was glad, but he could hardly tell whether it was his father's arrival that gladdened him or the playthings he brought with him.
This word was familiar to him: his Aunt Anfisa had often used it as an answer to his questions, and he had invested in this brief word a conception of a power, similar to the power of God. He glanced at the speakers: one of them was a gray little old man, with a kind face; the other was younger, with big, weary eyes and with a little black wedge-shaped beard.
'Ivan Semyonitch, she protested with heat, 'you were the death of your wife, Anfisa Karpovna, but you shan't worry me into my grave! 'Indeed? 'No! you shan't. 'Indeed? 'No! you shan't. They kept it up in this fashion for some time. My position was, as you perceive, not merely an unenviable one: it was positively idiotic.
Let me in to my son; let me in to my successor!" And auntie answered him in a crying and reproachful voice: "Go on. You better go to sleep, you cursed devil! Drunk again, eh? You are gray already?" "Anfisa! May I see my son, with one eye?" Foma knew that Anfisa would not let him in, and he again fell asleep in spite of the noise of their voices.
Everyone inquired for them, everybody wanted them; and a grand lot of camellias are to be got in a country town as you all know and two balls to provide for! "Poor Peter Volhofskoi was desperately in love with Anfisa Alexeyevna. I don't know whether there was anything I mean I don't know whether he could possibly have indulged in any hope.
Don't frighten him." And when Foma was somewhat sick, his father, casting everything aside, did not leave the house for a moment, but bothered his sister and his son with stupid questions and advice; gloomy, sighing, and with fear in his eyes, he walked about the house quite out of sorts. "Why do you vex the Lord?" said Anfisa.
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