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Updated: July 3, 2025
"I will p-pay you for it!" said the gentleman angrily, "How much do you w-want?" Velasco smiled and put his hand to his heart again, shrugging his shoulders. "Not that it is of any p-particular value," continued Petrokoff, "but I like the t-tone. I will give you hm s-sixty-five roubles!" Velasco drew the bow softly over the strings; he was still smiling. "Seventy!
Petrokoff fell on his knees and cowered behind a bush, his fat body trembling and his hands outstretched as if praying: "For the love of the saints!" he cried, "Don't strike!" The lash flashed through the air, blinding and terrible in its rapidity.
Don't you see she is whispering to Petrokoff now and looking at us through her pince-nez?" "So she is, the vixen, the miserable gossip! Slip out towards the door quietly, Kaya, while they are talking. I will follow directly. Wait at the back of the stable by the hay loft." The gypsey stood up suddenly and approached the little group of ladies, bowing to them and to Petrokoff.
"Let me see your hand and your arm," said Petrokoff, "Yes, the shape is excellent; the muscles are good. You need training of course. If you come to the Conservatory at Moscow, I may be able to procure for you a scholarship for one of my classes." "Ah, Bárin your Excellence, how kind you are!" murmured the gypsey. "I should like it above all things! Would the Bárin teach me himself?"
The boy's face was the picture of innocence; the mouth was slightly puckered as if with concentrated effort; his eyes were open and frank; he was smiling a little triumphantly like a child that is sure of pleasing and waiting for praise. "You play atrociously," said Petrokoff severely. "I shall keep you six months on finger exercises alone. You play false!"
He was wrapping the violin in its cover and laying it away in its case as he moved. "Pardon, Bárin," he said softly, "If you will wait for me here, I shall return presently. My supper is waiting. Perhaps after an hour you will still like to purchase the violin. See, it is really not a bad instrument if you are in earnest about the two hundred roubles?" Petrokoff stepped eagerly forward.
Kaya had stopped coughing; she had clapped one hand over her mouth to still the sound, and her blue eyes were fixed on one of the ladies, who was staring hard at the gypsey. They were listening intently. Petrokoff stood with his hands clasped over his waistcoat, his head a little to one side, nodding gently from time to time, as if listening to a pupil in his class room.
"Not at all. The arm must be so!" "Ah so?" "That is better." The gypsey ran his fingers over the strings in exact imitation of Petrokoff. The tone was thin, and his fingers moved stiffly as if weighted. His face wore an anxious expression. "Dear me!" he exclaimed, "It is more difficult than I imagined. Does every violinist hold his bow like that?"
Petrokoff stretched out his hand and took the violin from the gypsey's arms: "Give it to me," he said, "You notice how limpid, how rich the tone! That comes from the method. You will learn it in time; the secret lies in the bowing, the way the wrist is held so!" Velasco opened his eyes wide: "Oh, how clumsy I am in comparison!" he said wistfully. "Your scale, Bárin! I never heard such a scale."
Petrokoff cleared his throat and his chest swelled a little under his coat. "Bradjaga, I have taught the violin for twenty-five years there is no other way." The gypsey sighed. "My own way is so much simpler," he said, "Look!"
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