Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 27, 2025
But in merchant and petty shopkeeper society, where even old friends never step outside special angular forms of etiquette, a certain constraint in the behaviour of guests and host to one another not only strikes no one as strange, but, on the contrary, is regarded as perfectly correct and indispensable, particularly on a first visit. Praskovia Ivanovna was agreeably impressed by Pyetushkov.
'Well, and is she coming? Onisim shook his head. 'She coming! You're in too great a hurry, sir. She coming, indeed! No, you go too fast. ... 'But you said yourself that ... 'Oh, well, it's easy to talk. Pyetushkov was silent again. 'Well, but how's it to be, then, my lad? 'How? ... You ought to know best; you 're a gentleman. 'Oh, nonsense! come now!
He began to get thin and pale, eat unwillingly and hurriedly, and did not smoke at all. Onisim could only shake his head, as he looked at him. 'You're not well, Ivan Afanasiitch, he said to him more than once. 'No, I'm all right, replied Pyetushkov. Onisim was not at home.
'I assure you I greatly regret it; I confess it is positively painful to me, genuinely painful ... 'You know best, sir, Praskovia Ivanovna rejoined serenely. 'It's for you to decide, sir. And, oh, if you'll allow me, I'll give you your little account, sir. Pyetushkov had not at all anticipated such a prompt acquiescence.
Poor Pyetushkov felt a pang at his heart. Praskovia Ivanovna came in. They sat down to dinner. After dinner Praskovia Ivanovna betook herself to the shelf bed. Ivan Afanasiitch himself lay down on the stove, turned over and dropped asleep. A cautious creak waked him. Ivan Afanasiitch sat up, leaned on his elbow, looked: the door was open. He jumped up no Vassilissa.
This establishment, the only one of the kind in the town of O , had been opened ten years before by a German immigrant, had in a short time begun to flourish, and was still flourishing under the guidance of his widow, a fat woman. Pyetushkov tapped at the window. The fat woman stuck her unhealthy, flabby, sleepy countenance out of the pane that opened.
I tell you, he repeated. Vassilissa looked round ... 'I am speaking to you ... where have you been? And Pyetushkov raised his arm ... 'Don't beat me, Ivan Afanasiitch, don't beat me, Vassilissa whispered in terror. Pyetushkov turned away. 'Beat you ... No! I'm not going to beat you. Beat you? I beg your pardon, my darling. God bless you! While I supposed you loved me, while I ... I ...
Night came on, she had not returned. Pyetushkov at sunset went home to his lodgings, and at eight o'clock in the morning ran to the baker's shop.... Vassilissa had not come in. With an inexpressible sinking at his heart, he waited for her right up to dinner-time.... They sat down to the table without her.... 'Whatever can have become of her? Praskovia Ivanovna observed serenely....
Pyetushkov put on his coat. 'He doesn't believe me, the beast, he thought to himself. He went out of the house, but he did not go to see any one. He walked about the streets. He directed his attention to the sunset. At last a little after eight o'clock he returned home. He wore a smile; he repeatedly shrugged his shoulders, as though marvelling at his own folly.
Intently and mournfully Onisim kept watch on his master. Pyetushkov lifted his head. 'Tell me, Onisim, he began, 'is it true, are there really such witches' spells? 'There are, to be sure there are, answered Onisim, as he thrust one foot forward. 'Does your honour know the non-commissioned officer, Krupovaty? ... His brother was ruined by witchcraft.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking