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Updated: June 26, 2025
Doulebova said bitingly: "Well, I don't think he laughs very often. He ought to be to your taste." "To my taste!" exclaimed Poterina with a flushed face. "What are you saying, Zinaida Grigorievna! As the old saying goes: 'The Tsar's servant has been bent into a harness arch!"
It depends upon which place a man is used to there he is better off." Doulebova laughed viperously. Shabalov said in a preceptorial manner: "The orthodox matushka Russia! Is it possible to compare any kingdom with ours? Have you heard how our native land is called? Holy Russia, Mother Russia, the holy Russian soil. And you are an idiot, blockhead, a little swine.
Shabalov cried out: "Open the gate! You devils, demons, sinners!" Madame Doulebova tried to soothe Shabalov, who justified himself: "Forgive me, Zinaida Grigorievna. It is most annoying. If I had come myself I shouldn't have minded waiting, though even then it would have been discourteous being, after all, an official.
"Yes, he always looks askance at you and talks to no one," said the wife of the instructor Krolikov; "but he is a very kind man." Doulebova turned her malignant glance upon her. Krolikova grew pale with fear, and guessed that she had not said the right thing. She corrected herself: "He is a kind man in his words." Doulebova smiled at her benevolently.
Doulebova said: "Frankly, I don't like your poet. I can't understand him. There is something strange about him something disagreeable." "He's altogether suspicious," said Zherbenev with the look of a person who knew a great deal. It was asserted that Trirodov and others were collecting money for an armed revolt. At this they looked significantly at Voronok. Voronok retorted, but he was not heard.
Large pieces of bark were cut off the trees and proclamations pasted on. It was impossible to remove these bills, which were overrun by a thin, transparent coating of resin. The zealous preservers of order had either to chop out or to scrape off the obnoxious places with a knife. "I think," said Doulebova, "that it must be an idea of our chemist, Mr. Trirodov." "Of course."
But at heart she was bitter at her poverty, abjectness, and dependence. Poterin knew no languages; but he was also present here, and hissed malignantly at those who answered awkwardly or did not answer at all: "Blockhead! Numskull!" Doulebova sat motionless and made no sign that she heard this zealous hissing and these coarse words. She would give freedom to her tongue later, at luncheon.
Shabalov shouted savagely at him: "Stop!" The boy glanced at the carriages and calmly walked on. Shabalov cried more furiously this time: "Stop, you young brat! Off with your cap! Don't you see that gentlemen are coming why don't you bow to them?" The boy paused. He looked in astonishment at the variety of carriages and did not take his cap off. Doulebova decided: "He's simply an idiot!"
"Sit down, children," ordered Doulebov. The children resumed their places, while the elders seated themselves at a table in the order of their rank the Vice-Governor and Doulebov in the middle, with the others to their right and left. Doulebova looked round with an anxious, angry expression. At last she said in a bass voice, extraordinarily coarse for a woman: "Shut the windows.
The thin, shrill outcry and the movement of the finger towards the child's breast were so unexpected by the boy that he trembled and gave a choking sound. Some one behind him laughed, another gave an amused chuckle. Doulebova exchanged glances with Kerbakh and shrugged her shoulders; her face expressed horror. The boy quickly recovered himself and read the prayer.
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