muratov

Updated: May 14, 2025

Ignaty was dressed in a thick autumn overcoat of shaggy material. It pleased him; the mother observed how he stroked it admiringly with the palm of his hand, how he looked at himself, clumsily turning his powerful neck. Her bosom beat tenderly with, "My dears, my children, my own." "There!" said Ignaty, rising. "You'll remember, then? First you go to Muratov and ask for grandfather."

Maksim Gorky - Mother