Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 3, 2025
Markelov remarked, a faint smile of pleasure playing about his pale lips. Kollomietzev stamped and raged, but the governor stopped him. "It serves you right, Simion Petrovitch. You shouldn't interfere in what is not your business." "Not my business... not my business... It seems to me that it's the business of every nobleman "
Perhaps you will if you try hard enough." "Sir! "Gentlemen, gentlemen," Sipiagin interposed hastily, trying to catch someone's eye, "please, please... Kallomeitzeff, je vous prie de vous calmer. I suppose dinner will soon be ready. Come along, gentlemen!" "Valentina Mihailovna!" Kollomietzev cried out five minutes later, rushing into her boudoir. "I really don't know what your husband is doing!
"Ugh! you devil!" he thought, "I heard that you were a liberal, but you're just like a hungry lion!" The door was flung open and Valentina Mihailovna came into the room with hurried steps, followed by Kollomietzev. "What is the matter, Boris? Why have you ordered the carriage? Are you going to town? What has happened?"
His great-grandfather was called Kolomientzov after the place in which he was born; his grandfather used to sign himself Kolomietzev; his father added another I and wrote himself Kollomietzev, and finally Simion Petrovitch considered himself to be an aristocrat of the bluest blood, with pretensions to having descended from the well-known Barons von Gallenmeier, one of whom had been a field-marshal in the Thirty Years' War.
He passed for a promising, reliable young man un peu feodal dans ses opinions, as Prince B. said of him, and Prince B. was one of the leading lights in St. Petersburg official circles. Kollomietzev had come away on a two months' leave to look after his estate, that is, to threaten and oppress his peasants a little more. "You can't get on without that!" he used to say.
"Then why should the peasants know?" "Because it is better for them to know about these animals than about Proudhon or Adam Smith!" He swallowed the wine. Kollomietzev also drank a glass and praised it highly.
Kollomietzev declared, among other things, how he went into raptures at what the peasants, oui, oui! les simples mougiks! call lawyers. "Liars! Liars!" he shouted with delight. "Ce peupie russe est delicieux!" He then went on to say how once, when going through a village school, he asked one of the children what a babugnia was, and nobody could tell him, not even the teacher himself.
Kollomietzev exclaimed enthusiastically in French. "Your husband is a marvellous orator and is accustomed to success... ses propres paroles le grisent ... and then his desire for popularity. By the way, he is rather annoyed just now, is he not? Il boude? Eh?" Valentina Mihailovna looked at Mariana. "I haven't noticed it," she said after a pause.
"There is a story about a certain officer in the lifeguards who was very much grieved that his soldiers had lost a sock of his. 'Find me my sock! he would say to them, and I say, find me the word 'sir! The word 'sir' is lost, and with it every sense of respect towards rank!" Madame Sipiagina informed Kollomietzev that she would not help him in the search.
Valentina Mihailovna lifted her eyebrows slowly, then dropped her head, as if astonished at the freedom with which modern young girls entered into conversation. Kollomietzev smiled condescendingly. "Of course," he said, "I can't help feeling sorry for beautiful curls such as yours, Mariana Vikentievna, falling under the merciless snip of a pair of scissors, but it doesn't arouse antipathy in me.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking