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Updated: June 7, 2025
“Well, perhaps so,” Kostya agreed, entirely vanquished. “But you didn’t say so before. So how could I tell?” “Come, kiddies,” said Kolya, stepping into the room. “You’re terrible people, I see.” “And Perezvon with you!” grinned Kostya, and began snapping his fingers and calling Perezvon. “I am in a difficulty, kids,” Krassotkin began solemnly, “and you must help me.
And time is passing, time is passing, oogh!” “Tell Perezvon to pretend to be dead!” Kostya begged. “There’s no help for it, we must have recourse to Perezvon. Ici, Perezvon.” And Kolya began giving orders to the dog, who performed all his tricks. He was a rough-haired dog, of medium size, with a coat of a sort of lilac-gray color. He was blind in his right eye, and his left ear was torn.
"You imagine, I dare say, that you invented something quite new? It's always just the same: it was settled by the eyes, by smiles..." "How nicely you said that, mamma! It's just by the eyes, by smiles that it's done," Dolly assented. "But what words did he say?" "What did Kostya say to you?" "He wrote it in chalk. It was wonderful.... How long ago it seems!" she said.
Kostya asked each witness sarcastically whether she had not drunk the beer the accused had brought. Evidently he was insinuating that the washerwomen had stolen the linen themselves. He delivered his speech without the slightest nervousness, looking angrily at the jury. He explained what robbery with housebreaking meant, and the difference between that and simple theft.
"But why are you making all this fuss? Have what we usually do." "No, Stiva doesn't drink...Kostya, stop, what's the matter?" Kitty began, hurrying after him, but he strode ruthlessly away to the dining room without waiting for her, and at once joined in the lively general conversation which was being maintained there by Vassenka Veslovsky and Stepan Arkadyevitch.
Going back into her room, she quietly washed and dressed, then she spent a long time in packing her things, until it was daylight, and at midday she set off for Moscow. In Holy Week the Laptevs went to an exhibition of pictures in the school of painting. The whole family went together in the Moscow fashion, the little girls, the governess, Kostya, and all.
“One has to be careful there’s no fire about, or it would blow up and kill us all,” Krassotkin warned them sensationally. The children gazed at the powder with an awe-stricken alarm that only intensified their enjoyment. But Kostya liked the shot better. “And does the shot burn?” he inquired. “No, it doesn’t.” “Give me a little shot,” he asked in an imploring voice.
She was followed by her suite Kotchevoy, two doctors of their acquaintance, an officer, and a stout young man in student's uniform, called Kish. "You go on with Kostya," Laptev said to his wife. "I'm coming later." Yulia nodded and went on. Polina Nikolaevna gazed after her, quivering all over and twitching nervously, and in her eyes there was a look of repulsion, hatred, and pain.
After the lighted rooms nothing could be seen. Yartsev and Kostya groped their way like blind men to the railway embankment and crossed it. "One can't see a thing," said Kostya in his bass voice, standing still and gazing at the sky. "And the stars, the stars, they are like new three-penny-bits. Gavrilitch!" "Ah?" Yartsev responded somewhere in the darkness. "I say, one can't see a thing.
When they came, the front hall smelled of sheepskin jackets; they were taught by papa and Seryozha and Tanya and Uncle Kostya all at once. Lesson-time was very gay and lively.
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