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Updated: May 29, 2025
I entered the factory in your uncle's time." "That's a long while! My uncle and my father knew all the workpeople, and I know hardly any of them. I had seen you before, but I did not know your name was Pimenov." Anna Akimovna felt a desire to justify herself before him, to pretend that she had just given the money not seriously, but as a joke. "Oh, this poverty," she sighed.
"And if I could escape from the factory . . ." she mused, imagining how the weight of those factory buildings, barracks, and schools would roll off her conscience, roll off her mind. . . . Then she remembered her father, and thought if he had lived longer he would certainly have married her to a working man to Pimenov, for instance.
She might have some one out of the factory. They are all sober, steady men. . . ." "I should think so," Stinging Beetle agreed. "They are capital fellows. If you like, Aunt, I will make a match for her with Vassily Lebedinsky?" "Oh, Vasya's legs are so long," said Auntie seriously. "He is so lanky. He has no looks." There was laughter in the crowd by the door. "Well, Pimenov?
"Here, I ought to give him the fifteen hundred roubles!" she thought, but for some reason this idea seemed to her incongruous and insulting to Pimenov. "I am sure you are aching all over after your work, and you come to the door with me," she said as they went down the stairs. "Go home." But he did not catch her words.
Her spirits rose, and she, too, laughing and clasping her hands, thought that she could not go on living such a life, that there was no need to have a wretched life when one might have a splendid one. She remembered her words and thoughts at dinner, and was proud of them; and when Pimenov suddenly rose up in her imagination, she felt happy and longed for him to love her.
"It's essential for you; it's your duty to be frivolous and depraved! Ponder that, my dear, ponder it." Anna Akimovna was glad she had spoken out, and her spirits rose. She was pleased she had spoken so well, and that her ideas were so fine and just, and she was already convinced that if Pimenov, for instance, loved her, she would marry him with pleasure. Mishenka began to pour out champagne.
She thought that if the long day she had just spent could have been represented in a picture, all that had been bad and vulgar as, for instance, the dinner, the lawyer's talk, the game of "kings" would have been true, while her dreams and talk about Pimenov would have stood out from the whole as something false, as out of drawing; and she thought, too, that it was too late to dream of happiness, that everything was over for her, and it was impossible to go back to the life when she had slept under the same quilt with her mother, or to devise some new special sort of life.
Pimenov comes home from the factory in the evenings he is a little hard of hearing." But Anna Akimovna was by now relieved that there was nothing more for her to do here; she nodded to them and went rapidly out of the room. Pimenov went to see her out. "Have you been long in our employment?" she asked in a loud voice, without turning to him. "From nine years old.
Anna Akimovna was always afraid of their thinking her proud, an upstart, or a crow in peacock's feathers; and now while the foremen were crowding round the food, she did not leave the dining-room, but took part in the conversation. She asked Pimenov, her acquaintance of the previous day: "Why have you so many clocks in your room?" "I mend clocks," he answered.
She remembered how black he had been the day before, and how sleepy, and the thought of it for some reason touched her. When the men were preparing to go, Anna Akimovna put out her hand to Pimenov.
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