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Updated: May 17, 2025
He knows what's what.... If he wants anything and asks me, he won't get a refusal. When one has studied, you see, one likes education and well-bred people. It is for your sake I mention it, Monsieur Kiril. The other day if it had not been for you that affair would have ended ill." And after chatting a while longer, the corporal went away.
"You'll forgive Kiril, comrade Elisaveta," said Stchemilov. "I don't think he knows that your father is a Cadet. Besides, he's a rather simple, frank fellow." Kiril grew red. "I know so little," said Elisaveta timidly. "What shall I talk about, and how?" "You know enough," said the other confidently; "more than myself and Kiril put together. You do things remarkably well.
When Kiril heard the familiar voice and, lifting his eyes, saw plaits of hair wound around the lad's head, he was astonished. He was very much embarrassed upon recognizing Elisaveta. She hid herself behind the door of the storeroom, while Kiril blundered for a long time in the dark hall, unable in his confusion to find the door.
"What relation are you to Intendant General Kiril Andreevich Denisov?" asked Kutuzov, interrupting him. "He is my uncle, your Sewene Highness." "Ah, we were friends," said Kutuzov cheerfully. "All right, all right, friend, stay here at the staff and tomorrow we'll have a talk." With a nod to Denisov he turned away and put out his hand for the papers Konovnitsyn had brought him.
The news about the two dead victims, Kiril and another workman, Kliukin, a family man, soon spread. Their comrades were excited. The corpses had been taken to the mortuary of the town hospital. A large crowd, grave, silent, and resolute in mood, had gathered quite early near the mortuary. It mostly consisted of labouring men, and their wives and children.
And even that ruined and befouled house which in dull weather was repulsively ugly seemed quietly beautiful now, in the clear, motionless brilliance. A French corporal, with coat unbuttoned in a homely way, a skullcap on his head, and a short pipe in his mouth, came from behind a corner of the shed and approached Pierre with a friendly wink. "What sunshine, Monsieur Kiril!" Just like spring!"
He continued to smile, but sat down on the edge of the bench, so that he nearly fell over; his arms shot up into the air, and one of his hands brushed against Elisaveta. He felt vexed with himself, and he flushed. As he moved away from the edge he remarked: "I've sat two months in administrative order." Every one understood these strange words. Piotr asked: "For what?" Kiril seemed embarrassed.
Zherbenev is very busy at this he's one of your genuine Russians." "Kerbakh is with him another patriot for you," observed Kiril. "The most dangerous man in our town, this Zherbenev. Vermin of the most foul kind," said Stchemilov contemptuously. "I am going to kill him," said Kiril hotly.
He answered with a morose uneasiness: "It's all a very simple affair with us you do the slightest thing, and they try at once the most murderous measures." At this moment Stchemilov said very quietly to Elisaveta: "Not a bad chap. He wants to become acquainted with you, comrade." Elisaveta silently inclined her head, smiled amiably at Kiril, and pressed his hand. His face brightened.
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