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Updated: June 5, 2025
"A wonderfully disagreeable woman!" said Kistunov, revolted, nervously cracking his fingers and continually going to the decanter of water. "She's a perfect idiot! She's worn me out and she'll exhaust them, the nasty creature! Ough! . . . my heart is throbbing." Half an hour later he rang his bell. Alexey Nikolaitch made his appearance. "How are things going?" Kistunov asked languidly.
As he sat in his room Kistunov heard two voices: the monotonous, restrained bass of Alexey Nikolaitch and the shrill, wailing voice of Madame Shtchukin. "I am a weak, defenceless woman, I am a woman in delicate health," said Madame Shtchukin. "I look strong, but if you were to overhaul me there is not one healthy fibre in me.
"How much do you want?" he asked in a weak voice. "Twenty-four roubles and thirty-six kopecks." Kistunov took his pocket-book out of his pocket, extracted a twenty-five rouble note and gave it to Madame Shtchukin. "Take it and . . . and go away!"
"Your Excellency," cried Madame Shtchukin, pouncing upon Kistunov. I am a weak, defenceless woman. . . . My husband is a collegiate assessor, and I am a major's daughter myself!" "Very good, madam," moaned Kistunov. "I will go into it . . . I will take steps. . . . Go away . . . later!" "And when shall I get the money, your Excellency? I need it to-day!"
"Ough!" sighed Kistunov, letting his head drop back. "There's no making you see reason. Do understand that to apply to us with such a petition is as strange as to send in a petition concerning divorce, for instance, to a chemist's or to the Assaying Board. You have not been paid your due, but what have we to do with it?"
When he had driven home Alexey Nikolaitch sent Nikita for some laurel drops, and, after taking twenty drops each, all the clerks set to work, while Madame Shtchukin stayed another two hours in the vestibule, talking to the porter and waiting for Kistunov to return. . . . She came again next day. ON the red velvet seat of a first-class railway carriage a pretty lady sits half reclining.
Alexey Nikolaitch," he said, addressing one of his clerks, "please will you explain to Madame Shtchukin?" Kistunov, passing by all the petitioners, went to his private room and signed about a dozen papers while Alexey Nikolaitch was still engaged with Madame Shtchukin.
"Be off, you pest," hissed Alexey Nikolaitch. Kistunov opened his door and looked into the office. "What is it?" he asked in a tearful voice. Madame Shtchukin, as red as a crab, was standing in the middle of the room, rolling her eyes and prodding the air with her fingers. The bank clerks were standing round red in the face too, and, evidently harassed, were looking at each other distractedly.
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