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Updated: June 2, 2025


Ratsch, your stepfather, has already received from me the necessary instructions. To which I must add that your attractive exterior seems to me a pledge of the excellence of your sentiments. Semyon Matveitch went off into a thin chuckle, while I... I was not offended exactly... but I suddenly felt very sorry for myself... and at that moment I fully realised how utterly forsaken and alone I was.

"That's all right!" sniggered Semyon, "go and change them. . . . Where am I to find him now? He went off an hour ago. . . . Go and look for the wind in the fields!" "Where does he live then?" "Who can tell? He comes here every Tuesday, and where he lives I don't know. He comes and stays the night, and then you may wait till next Tuesday. . . ." "There, do you see, you brute, what you have done?

Her father and mother had never died, she had never been a schoolmistress, it was a long, tedious, strange dream, and now she had awakened.... "Vassilyevna, get in!" And at once it all vanished. The barrier was slowly raised. Marya Vassilyevna, shivering and numb with cold, got into the cart. The carriage with the four horses crossed the railway line; Semyon followed it.

He began to speak... and his voice went straight to my heart.... A manly and soft voice, and in every sound such a true, honest nature! Semyon Matveitch was delighted at his son's arrival, embraced him, but at once asked, 'For a fortnight, eh? On leave, eh? and sent me away. I sat a long while at my window, and gazed at the lights flitting to and fro in the rooms of the big house.

Every one looked at Liza. "Anoint, anoint!" muttered Semyon Yakovlevitch. Liza suddenly turned white, cried out, and rushed through the partition. Then a rapid and hysterical scene followed. She began pulling Mavriky Nikolaevitch up with all her might, tugging at his elbows with both hands. "Get up! Get up!" she screamed, as though she were crazy. "Get up at once, at once. How dare you?"

Tell me what to do!... No, it is impossible to run to the hut and get back in time." Semyon did not run on to the hut, but turned back and ran faster than before. He was running almost mechanically, blindly; he did not know himself what was to happen. He ran as far as the rail which had been pulled up; his sticks were lying in a heap.

Semyon Matveitch cared for music even less than his brother; he praised and thanked me, however, and next day I was invited to dine at the master's table. After dinner Semyon Matveitch had rather a long conversation with me, asked me questions, laughed at some of my replies, though there was, I remember, nothing amusing in them, and stared at me so strangely... I felt uncomfortable.

The door was thrown open by the wind and the snow drifted into the hut; nobody felt inclined to get up and shut the door: they were cold, and it was too much trouble. "I am all right," said Semyon as he began to doze. "I wouldn't wish anyone a better life." "You are a tough one, we all know. Even the devils won't take you!" Sounds like a dog's howling came from outside. "What's that? Who's there?"

The train was already in sight. The driver would not see him would come close up, and a heavy train cannot be pulled up in six hundred feet. And the blood kept on flowing. Semyon pressed the sides of the wound together so as to close it, but the blood did not diminish. Evidently he had cut his arm very deep.

The latter moved forward and stood beside the kneeling gentleman. "Some more sugar for him!" ordered Semyon Yakovlevitch, after the glass had already been poured out. They put some more in. "More, more, for him!" More was put in a third time, and again a fourth. The merchant began submissively drinking his syrup. "Heavens!" whispered the people, crossing themselves.

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