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Updated: June 25, 2025
Then there appeared at the door the Doctor, the Police Inspector of the district, and the examining Magistrate or Coroner. All three came in turn, looked at the dead teacher, and then went out, throwing suspicious glances at Kuvalda. He sat there, without taking any notice of them, until the Police Inspector asked him: "Of what did he die?" "Ask him... I think his evil life hastened his end."
"Here they are; the deeds about the damned houses!" "Ah! You . . . vagabond! And you pretend to have been a soldier, too!" And Kuvalda did not cease to belabor him with his tongue, as he snatched the blue parchment from his hands. Then, spreading the papers out in front of him, and excited all the more by Vaviloff's inquisitiveness, the Captain began reading and bellowing at the same time.
Kuvalda, shaking his fist at Petunikoff's head, roared and rolled his eyes like a wild beast. "Scoundrel and thief! Take back your money! Dirty worm! Take it back, I say . . . or else I shall cram it down your throat. . . . Take your five-kopeck pieces!"
He was shivering all over. "We worked on the same paper ... he is very unlucky.... I said, 'Stay in my house, you are not in my way, ... but he begged me to send him 'home. He was so excited about it that I brought him here, thinking it might do him good... Home! This is it, isn't it?" "Do you suppose he has a home anywhere else?" asked Kuvalda, roughly, looking at his friend.
"My first Deaconess used to buy twelve arshins for her clothes, but the second one only ten... And so on even in the matter of provisions and food." Paltara Taras smiled guiltily. Turning his head towards the Deacon and looking straight at him, he said, with conviction: "I had a wife once, too." "Oh! That happens to everyone," remarked Kuvalda; "but go on with your lies."
In the depths of this yard stood a low, iron-roofed, smoke-begrimed building. The house itself was of course unoccupied, but this shed, formerly a blacksmith's forge, was now turned into a "dosshouse," kept by a retired Captain named Aristid Fomich Kuvalda. In the interior of the dosshouse was a long, wide and grimy board, measuring some 28 by 70 feet.
"Show it me!" shouted the Captain, striking the bar with his fist and sitting down on a stool close by. "But why?" asked Vaviloff, knowing that it was better to keep his wits about him when Kuvalda got excited. "You fool! Bring it at once." Vaviloff rubbed his forehead, and turned his eyes to the ceiling in a tired way. "Where are those papers of yours?"
"You are the proof of that," said Petunikoff quietly, while his eyes shot forth poisonous glances. And he went away, leaving Kuvalda under the pleasant impression that the merchant was afraid of him. If he were not afraid of him he would long ago have evicted him from the dosshouse. But then he would think twice before turning him out, because of the five roubles a month.
One cannot eat soup out of one's hand ... But though you have read and thought, and I have not done that or anything else, we both seem to have got into pretty much the same condition, don't we?" "Go to the Devil!" shouted Kuvalda. His conversations with Abyedok always ended thus.
He must needs bow before this power. But, nevertheless, the soldier thought of trying him once more. He sighed deeply, and began with apparent calmness: "It is truly said that a man's sin will find him out ... I lied to you, Aristid Fomich, ... I tried to be cleverer than I am ... I only received one hundred roubles." "Go on!" said Kuvalda. "And not four hundred as I told you ... That means ..."
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