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It all seemed poor and decaying, not exactly as if it had been allowed to run wild, but as though it had never flourished, like a young tree that had not taken root well. When Nejdanov went downstairs, Mashurina was sitting in the dining room at the samovar, evidently waiting for him.
They want to introduce classicism, the students' benefit clubs have been closed, spies everywhere, oppression, lies, betrayals, deceit! And it is not enough for him! He wants some new unpleasantness! He thinks that I am joking.... Basanov has been arrested," he added, lowering his voice. "I heard it at the library." Mashurina and Ostrodumov lifted their heads simultaneously.
Miss Mashurina is looking at me with a smile... but I say " "I am not smiling!" Mashurina burst out. "But I say," Paklin went on, "that you have no tact. You are utterly incapable of recognising your real friends. If a man can laugh, then you think that he can't be serious " "Is it not so?" Mashurina snapped.
The idealist of realism. Do you understand me?" Mashurina flung him a rapid glance. She did not understand him and did not want to understand him. It seemed to her impertinent that he should compare himself to Nejdanov. "Let him brag!" she thought, though he was not bragging at all, but rather depreciating himself, according to his own ideas.
Ostrodumov exclaimed in his heavy bass voice; he was evidently anxious to avoid a useless discussion. "A letter has come from Moscow, from Vassily Nikolaevitch." Nejdanov trembled slightly and cast down his eyes. "What does he say?" he asked at last. "He wants us to go there with her." Ostrodumov indicated to Mashurina with his eyebrows. "Do they want her too? "Yes."
"He would like to know when we can have the money. If you could get it today, we could start this evening." "I can't get it today," Nejdanov said with a frown. "Please come tomorrow." "At what time?" "Two o'clock." "Very well." Mashurina was silent for a while and then extended her hand. "I am afraid I interrupted you. I am so sorry.
Will they kill him, Mashurina... or send him to Siberia?" "Well, what then? Don't people come back from Siberia? And as for losing one's life; it is not all like honey to everybody. To some it is sweet, to others bitter. His life has not been over-sweet." Mashurina gave Mariana a fixed searching look. "How beautiful you are!" she exclaimed, "just like a bird!
"It's of no consequence," Paklin continued, working himself up more and more, without noticing that Mashurina had long ago ceased listening to him and was looking away somewhere, "it's of no consequence that Russia is now full of all sorts of queer people, fanatics, officials, generals plain and decorated, Epicureans, imitators, all manner of cranks.
THE guests turned out to be no other than our old friends Mashurina and Ostrodumov. They were both sitting in the poorly-furnished drawing room of Markelov's house, smoking and drinking beer by the light of a kerosene lamp.
A few moments later Mashurina appeared in the doorway, in the same dress in which we saw her at the beginning of the first chapter. "Is Nejdanov not at home?" she asked, then catching sight of Solomin, came up to him and extended her hand. "How do you do, Solomin?" She threw a side-glance at Mariana. "He will be back directly," Solomin said. "But tell me how you came to know " "Markelov told me.
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