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Updated: May 3, 2025
He then asked what a pithecus was, and no one knew even that, although he had quoted the poet Himnitz, 'The weakwitted pithecus that mocks the other beasts. Such is the deplorable condition of our peasant schools! "But," Valentina Mihailovna remarked, "I don't know myself what are these animals!" "Madame!" Kollomietzev exclaimed, "there is no necessity for you to know!"
Valentina Mihailovna laughed and assured him that this precaution was altogether unnecessary, since he would hear nothing but good of himself; inwardly she thought Solomin's action rather strange, but delicate in its own way. At this point Kollomietzev could no longer contain himself. "And so you've been in England," he began, "and no doubt studied the manners and customs there.
Kollomietzev came in the evening; his own estate was only about ten miles away from "Arjanov," the name of Sipiagin's village. There also came a certain justice of the peace, a squire, of the kind so admirably described in the two famous lines of Lermontov Behind a cravat, frock coat to the heels Moustache, squeaky voice and heavy glance.
Valentina Mihailovna said something kindly to him, but he did not quite catch what it was and did not reply. He noticed that she was very bright, and clung to her husband affectionately. He did not like Kolia's befrizzled and pomaded head, and when his eye fell on Kollomietzev, thought, "What a sleek individual." He paid no attention to the others.
Kollomietzev asked. "You know I'm always ready to learn." "Certainly, if you like." They went out of the courtyard into the road and had scarcely taken twenty steps when they ran across a priest in a woven cassock, who was wending his way homeward.
The bitterness which had shown itself only in his words now rose with full force from the depths of his soul. Kollomietzev came to dinner, disturbed and agitated. "Would you believe it!" he shouted almost in tears, "what horrors I've read in the papers! My friend, my beloved Michael, the Servian prince, has been assassinated by some blackguards in Belgrade.
Kollomietzev took to walking up and down in front of Paklin as if to cut off his way, although the latter had not betrayed the slightest inclination of wanting to run away. "Why don't you speak? Answer me! Do you know, eh? Do you know?" "Even if I knew," Paklin began, annoyed; his wrath had risen up in him at last and his eyes flashed fire: "even if I knew I would not tell you."
He made him pay dearly for the cigar he had given him and the playful familiarity of his behaviour. "This Solomin," Kollomietzev put in, "is an out-and-out radical and republican. It would be a good thing if your excellency were to turn your attention to him too." "Do you know these gentlemen... Solomin, and what's his name. .. Nejdanov?" the governor asked Markelov, somewhat authoritatively.
Markelov had curly hair, a somewhat hooked nose, thick lips, sunken cheeks, a narrow chest, and sinewy hands. He was dry and sinewy all over, and spoke in a curt, harsh, metallic voice. The sleepy look in his eyes, the gloomy expression, denoted a bilious temperament! He ate very little, amused himself by making bread pills, and every now and again would fix his eyes on Kollomietzev.
A present from Michael, the Servian Prince Obrenovitch. Look, here are his initials. We are great friends go out hunting a lot together. Such a splendid fellow, with an iron hand, just what an administrator ought to be. He will never allow himself to be made a fool of. Not he! Oh dear no!" Kollomietzev dropped into an armchair, crossed his legs, and began leisurely pulling off his left glove.
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