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Updated: May 16, 2025
He rose and stooping before the fire on which was the saucepan, Vassili meditated while throwing the scum into the flame. Nothing in his son's recital had touched him particularly, and he felt irritated against his wife and Iakov. He had sent them a great deal of money during the last five years, and yet they had not been able to manage.
How much money have you saved?" "In so little time I've not been able to save any," replied Iakov. "Then you don't want to stay here any longer, my lad, go back to the village." Iakov smiled. "Why these grimaces?" cried Vassili threateningly, and impatient at his son's coolness. "Your father's advising you and you mock him. You're in too much of a hurry to play the independent.
"I couldn't." "You were drunk?" "No, I was watching your son and his step-mother," said Serejka, phlegmatically. "A new worry on your shoulders," said Vassili, sarcastically and with a forced smile. "They are only children." He was tempted to learn where and how Serejka had seen Malva and Iakov the day before, but he was ashamed.
His mouth trembled with passion, his face was convulsed, and two swollen veins stood out on his temples. "I forget nothing," said Iakov, in a low tone and not looking at his father. "And you have you forgotten nothing?" "It's not your place to preach to me. I'll break every bone in your body." Iakov avoided the hand that his father raised over his head and a feeling of savage hatred arose in him.
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