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Updated: June 3, 2025
Anyuta Blagovo is a very clever girl; she says about your marriage that God is sending you a fresh ordeal. To be sure married life does not bring only joy but suffering too. That's bound to be so." Masha and I walked a couple of miles to see her on her way; we walked back slowly and in silence, as though we were resting.
But when evening came on and the horses were brought round, my sister sank into silence and looked thin and shrunken, and she got into the brake as though she were going to the scaffold. When they had all gone, and the sound had died away . . . I remembered that Anyuta Blagovo had not said a word to me all day. "She is a wonderful girl!" I thought. "Wonderful girl!" St.
In Anyuta, the medical student and his mistress live in a room disgusting in its squalor: Crumpled bed-clothes, pillows thrown about, boots, clothes, a big filthy slop pail filled with soap-suds in which cigarette-ends were swimming, and the litter on the floor all seemed as though purposely jumbled together in one confusion....
Anyuta put down her sewing, took off her blouse, and straightened herself up. Klotchkov sat down facing her, frowned, and began counting her ribs. "H'm! . . . One can't feel the first rib; it's behind the shoulder-blade . . . . This must be the second rib. . . . Yes . . . this is the third . . . this is the fourth. . . . H'm! . . . yes. . . . Why are you wriggling?" "Your fingers are cold!"
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