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Updated: May 14, 2025
They took their seats, and the only ones missing were Nadyezhda Fyodorovna and Atchmianov, who were running after one another, laughing, the other side of the stream. "Make haste, my friends," shouted Samoylenko. "You oughtn't to give ladies wine," said Von Koren in a low voice.
And how would you do it?" Samoylenko was going to answer, but at that moment a big wave covered them both, then broke on the beach and rolled back noisily over the shingle. The friends got out and began dressing. "Of course, it is difficult to live with a woman if you don't love her," said Samoylenko, shaking the sand out of his boots. "But one must look at the thing humanely, Vanya.
He recalled the zoologist's eyes the evening before, full of mockery and disgust. He was silent for a space and then asked, no longer smiling: "How do you know anything of my position?" "You were only just speaking of it yourself. Besides, your friends take such a warm interest in you, that I am hearing about you all day long." "What friends? Samoylenko, I suppose?" "Yes, he too."
"Is Alexandr Daviditch at home?" "Yes, in the kitchen." Laevsky went into the kitchen, but seeing from the door that Samoylenko was busy over the salad, he went back into the drawing-room and sat down. He always had a feeling of awkwardness in the zoologist's presence, and now he was afraid there would be talk about his attack of hysterics. There was more than a minute of silence.
And not the deacon, for he doesn't know I want to go away. Von Koren, perhaps?" The zoologist bent over the table and drew a pyramid. Laevsky fancied that his eyes were smiling. "Most likely Samoylenko . . . has been gossiping," thought Laevsky. In the other note, in the same disguised angular handwriting with long tails to the letters, was written: "Somebody won't go away on Saturday."
Take the hundred roubles," said Von Koren, dropping his voice, "but only on condition that you're not borrowing it for Laevsky." "And if it were for Laevsky," cried Samoylenko, flaring up, "what is that to you?" "I can't give it to you for Laevsky. I know you like lending people money.
Another fifteen or twenty minutes passed and they were not called to dinner, and they could still hear the orderly running into the kitchen and back again, noisily treading with his boots, and Samoylenko shouting: "Put it on the table! Where are your wits? Wash it first."
"If you had been the same, the Divine Grace would have rested upon you, and you would have been bishop yourself; and since you are not bishop, it follows you are not the same." "Don't talk nonsense, deacon," said Samoylenko dejectedly. "Listen to what I suggest," he said, turning to Von Koren. "Don't give me that hundred roubles.
Since Samoylenko had left Dorpat, where he had studied medicine, he had rarely seen a German and had not read a single German book, but, in his opinion, every harmful idea in politics or science was due to the Germans. Where he had got this notion he could not have said himself, but he held it firmly. "Yes, the Germans!" he repeated once more. "Come and have some tea."
With his big cropped head, short neck, his red face, his big nose, his shaggy black eyebrows and grey whiskers, his stout puffy figure and his hoarse military bass, this Samoylenko made on every newcomer the unpleasant impression of a gruff bully; but two or three days after making his acquaintance, one began to think his face extraordinarily good-natured, kind, and even handsome.
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