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Updated: May 14, 2025
"What's the trouble? Why so blue?" Rybin asked, tapping his knee. "Nothing." "Are you a workingman, too?" asked Yefim, nodding his head toward the Little Russian. "Yes," Andrey answered. "Why?" "This is the first time he's seen factory workmen," explained Rybin. "He says they're different from others." "How so?" Pavel asked.
Nikolay found the note, straightened it out, looked at it, and handed the gray, crumpled piece of paper to the mother. "For you." "Read it." "'Mother, don't let the affair go without your attention. Tell the tall lady not to forget to have them write more for our cause, I beg of you. Good-by. Rybin." "My darling!" said the mother sadly. "They've already seized him by the throat, and he "
It had a ring that won him confidence. "So. Everybody prates about you. My masters call you a heretic; you don't go to church. I don't, either. Then the papers appeared, those leaflets. Was it you that thought them out?" "Yes, I!" answered Pavel, without taking his eyes off Rybin's face. Rybin also looked steadily into Pavel's eyes. "You alone!" exclaimed the mother, coming into the room.
"Mother," Pavel asked dryly, "suppose some of our people, Andrey, for example, did something behind my back, and I were put in prison for it, what would you say to that?" The mother started, looked at her son in perplexity, and said, shaking her head in negation: "Why, is it possible to act that way toward a comrade?" "Aha! Yes!" Rybin drawled. "I understand you, Pavel."
The wrath in Rybin seethed and bubbled; his voice shook with sounds that frightened the mother. "And what had I said to the priest?" he continued in a lighter tone. "After the village assembly he sits with the peasants in the street, and tells them something. 'The people are a flock, says he, 'and they always need a shepherd. And I joke.
She had feelings only for Rybin. Tears flowed constantly; her face was gloomy; but her voice did not tremble when she said to her host: "They rob a man, they choke him, they trample him in the mud the accursed! And when he says, 'What are you doing, you godless men? they beat and torture him." "Power," returned the peasant. "They have great power."
A certain gravity spoke out of their calm gaze; his stalwart figure inspired confidence. The mother went into the kitchen to prepare the samovar. Rybin sat down, stroked his beard, and placing his elbows on the table, scanned Pavel with his dark look. "That's the way it is," he said, as if continuing an interrupted conversation. "I must have a frank talk with you.
Fearing he would insult Sofya with his heavy voice and his raillery, the mother said quickly and sternly: "She's my friend, Mikhail Ivanovich. She's a good woman. Working in this movement has turned her hair gray. You're not very " Rybin fetched a deep breath. "Why, was what I said insulting?" Sofya looked at him dryly and queried: "You wanted to say something to me?"
Her memory, aroused by a sharp premonition of misfortune, quickly presented this man twice to her imagination once in the field outside the city, after the escape of Rybin; a second time in the evening in the court. There at his side stood the constable to whom she had pointed out the false way taken by Rybin. They knew her; they were tracking her this was evident.
You see, we must be sure to write a leaflet about Rybin for the village. It won't hurt him once he's come out so boldly, and it will help the cause. I'll surely do it to-day. Liudmila will print it quickly. But then arises the question how will it get to the village?" "I'll take it!" "No, thank you!" Nikolay exclaimed quietly. "I'm wondering whether Vyesovshchikov won't do for it.
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