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Updated: May 12, 2025
Brekhunov isn't a man to wrong anyone. Let the loss be mine. I'm not like others. Honestly! he shouted in the voice in which he hypnotized his customers and dealers. 'It's a real good horse. 'Quite so! said Nikita with a sigh, and convinced that there was nothing more to listen to, he again released his collar, which immediately covered his ear and face.
But what have I done in these fifteen years? A shop, two taverns, a flour-mill, a grain-store, two farms leased out, and a house with an iron-roofed barn, he thought proudly. 'Not as it was in Father's time! Who is talked of in the whole district now? Brekhunov! And why? Because I stick to business.
It happened in the 'seventies in winter, on the day after St. Nicholas's Day. There was a fete in the parish and the innkeeper, Vasili Andreevich Brekhunov, a Second Guild merchant, being a church elder had to go to church, and had also to entertain his relatives and friends at home.
And he remembered his money, his shop, his house, the buying and selling, and Mironov's millions, and it was hard for him to understand why that man, called Vasili Brekhunov, had troubled himself with all those things with which he had been troubled. 'Well, it was because he did not know what the real thing was, he thought, concerning that Vasili Brekhunov.
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