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Updated: May 29, 2025
Onisim did not leave his side all night. Towards morning Pyetushkov fell asleep, but he did not sleep long. At seven o'clock he got up from the sofa, pale, dishevelled, and exhausted, and asked for tea. Onisim with amazing eagerness and speed brought the samovar. 'Ivan Afanasiitch, he began at last, in a timid voice, 'your honour is not angry with me?
Like one frantic, Pyetushkov jumped up from the sofa ... but, to the amazement of Onisim, who was already lifting both hands to the level of his cheeks, he sat down again, as though some one had cut away his legs from under him.... Tears were rolling down his pale face, a tuft of hair stood up straight on the top of his head, his eyes looked dimmed ... his drawn lips were quivering ... his head sank on his breast.
At last they had emptied the whole samovar, turned upside down the round cups one with the inscription, 'Take your fill'; the other with the words, 'Cupid's dart hath pierced my heart' then they cleared their throats, wiped their perspiring brows, and gradually dropped into conversation. 'Onisim Sergeitch, how about your master ... began Vassilissa, and did not finish her sentence.
In the first place, from the time of his establishing himself at Vassilissa's, Pyetushkov dropped more than ever out of all intercourse with his comrades. Secondly, Onisim gave him no peace; he had lost every trace of respect for him, he mercilessly persecuted him, put him to shame. And ... thirdly.... Alas! read further, kindly reader. The mistress of the house was not at home.
'However, he said aloud, 'I'll go to see her. I must see what she's about there. I must make her feel ashamed. Most certainly ... I'll go. Onisim! my clothes. 'Well, he mused as he dressed, 'we shall see what comes of it. She may, I dare say, be angry with me. And after all, a man keeps coming and coming, and all of a sudden, for no rhyme or reason, goes and gives up coming.
'Impossible! exclaimed Ivan Afanasiitch. 'Sold out, repeated Onisim; 'there's a breakfast at the Marshal's, so they've all gone there, you know. Onisim waved his hand in the air, and thrust his right foot forward. Ivan Afanasiitch walked up and down the room, dressed, and set off himself to the baker's shop.
"I didn't mean anything, Madam, Vassilissa Timofyevna," says he, "don't you think anything of it; don't you be offended, madam," and a lot more like that he wrote.... But I say, she added after a brief silence: 'what's he like? 'He's all right, Onisim responded indifferently. 'Does he get angry? 'He get angry! Not he. Why, do you like him? Vassilissa looked down and giggled in her sleeve.
Vassilissa went to the window and sat down in silence. While Onisim was busy getting a light in the anteroom, Pyetushkov stood motionless at the other window, staring into the street. Onisim came in, with the candle in his hands, was beginning to grumble ... Ivan Afanasiitch turned quickly round: 'Go along, he said to him. Onisim stood still in the middle of the room.
That's what would be just. I won't dispute that. Ivan Afanasiitch gave a lurch backwards. Onisim ran forward and held his master up. 'And who's to blame for it? I'll tell you, if you like, who's to blame. I'm to blame, in the first place. What ought I to have said? I ought to have said to you: Vassilissa, I love you. Good well, will you marry me? Will you?
The creak of boots resounded in the passage, and then there was heard the usual suppressed cough which announces the presence of a person of subordinate position. Onisim went out and promptly came back, accompanied by a diminutive soldier with a little, old woman's face, in a patched cloak yellow with age, and wearing neither breeches nor cravat.
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