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Updated: June 18, 2025
He was convinced that in the business world the old man was a power, and that he could do anything he pleased. At first it was painful for him to feel Mayakin's hand over him, but later he became reconciled to this, renounced everything, and resumed his restless, drunken life, wherein there was only one consolation the people.
The merchants stared silently and attentively at his mouth, and all faces bespoke intense attention. The people seemed petrified in the attitudes in which Mayakin's speech had overtaken them. "But if that word is to be interpreted precisely thus, and not otherwise, if such is the case then the people who call us uncultured and savage, slander and blaspheme us!
What's this! No-o! I will not forgive this! I'll go to court. What's that?" and suddenly he screamed in a shrill voice, out-stretching his hand toward Foma: "Bind him!" Foma was laughing. "You cannot bind the truth, you can't do it! Even bound, truth will not grow dumb!" "Go-o-od!" drawled out Kononov in a dull, broken voice. "See here, gentlemen of the merchant class!" rang out Mayakin's voice.
If your head is reeling go, my dear boy, quietly and peacefully into the cabin and lie down! Lie down, and " "Silence, you!" roared Foma, and turned his eye at him. "Do not dare to speak to me! I am not drunk. I am soberer than any one of you here! Do you understand?" "But wait awhile, my boy. Who invited you here?" asked Kononov, reddening with offence. "I brought him!" rang out Mayakin's voice.
The Babylonian prostitute!" Mayakin's eyes were blinking, his lips were trembling, and in rude, cynical words he began to speak of Medinskaya, irritated, with a wrathful jar in his voice. Foma felt that the old man spoke the truth. He now began to breathe with difficulty and he felt that his mouth had a dry, bitter taste.
"Silence!" roared Foma, with blood-shot eyes. "Now they're grunting." "Gentlemen!" rang out Mayakin's calm, malicious voice, like the screech of a smooth-file on iron. "Don't touch him! I entreat you earnestly, do not hinder him. Let him snarl. Let him amuse himself. His words cannot harm you." "Well, no, I humbly thank you!" cried Yushkov.
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