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Updated: June 8, 2025
She gibbered and she gibbered something in a foreign language, all the time pointed to heaven with her hand, and then distributed a five-kopeck Testament to every one of us and rode away. Now you ought to do the same, dearie." Platonov burst into loud laughter.
"And yet, even though she has dressed herself simply," reflected Platonov, looking at her from a distance with his habitually puckered eyes, "and yet, every man will walk past, give a look, and inevitably look back three or four times; he'll feel the especial tone at once." "Howdy do, Jennka! Very glad to see you," he said cordially, squeezing the girl's hand. "There, now, I didn't expect it!"
I, perhaps, am the only one out of all of them who feels the horror of her position; this black, stinking, filthy pit. But then, all the girls with whom I have met, and with whom I am living right now understand, Platonov, understand me! why, they don't realize anything... Talking, walking pieces of meat! And this is even worse than my malice! ..." "You are right!" said Platonov quietly.
Zavorotny, at a distance, with his keen eyes caught sight of Platonov and began to yell over the whole port: "You did manage to get here in time, you round-shouldered devil ... But I was already wanting to take you by the tail and chase you out of the gang ... Well, get in your place! ..." "Well, but I did get a he-dog in you, Serejka! ..." he added, in a kindly manner.
"Yes," answered the reporter, and looked kindly at the student with gratefulness. "But as regards Sonechka why, this is an abstract type," remarked Yarchenko with assurance. "A psychological scheme, so to speak..." Platonov, who up to now had been speaking as though unwillingly, at a slow rate, suddenly grew heated: "A hundred times have I heard this opinion, a hundred times!
If humanity has become so malodorous to you, then how do you stand and for so long, too, all this, " Lichonin took in the whole table with a circular motion of his hand, "the basest thing that mankind could invent?" "Well, I don't even know myself," said Platonov with artlessness. "You see, I am a vagabond, and am passionately in love with life.
Jennka was reserved, sad, and apparently troubled over something. Platonov at once understood and sensed this. "You excuse me, Jennechka, I must have dinner right away," said he, "so, perhaps, you'll go together with me and tell me what's the matter, while I'll manage to eat at the same time. There's a modest little inn not far from here.
"Pimp!" Sobashkinov had almost decided mentally with malice, but did not believe it even himself the reporter was altogether too homely and too carelessly dressed, and moreover he bore himself with great dignity. Platonov again made believe that he had not heard the insolent remark made by the student. He only nervously crumpled a napkin in his fingers and lightly threw it aside from him.
Boris Sobashnikov again stood up picturesquely in the corner, in a leaning position, one leg in front of the other and his head held high. Suddenly he spoke amid the general silence, addressing Platonov directly, in a most foppish tone: "Eh ... Listen ... what's your name? ... This, then, must be your mistress? Eh?" And with the tip of his boot he pointed in the direction of the recumbent Pasha.
And as many watermelons as he busts that's out of your share, too...I didn't think it of you, Platonov that you're such a he-dog..." Jennka was waiting for him in the tiny little square, sheltered between a church and the wharf, and consisting of ten sorry poplars. She had on a gray, one-piece street dress; a simple, round, straw hat with a small black ribbon.
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