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Updated: May 22, 2025
Seeing that Mitia had no intention of answering, Sergei replied quietly to himself: "It's because its too early in the season. It's only just beginning. We shall soon be at Kazan. The Volga pulls hard. She has a mighty strong back, that can carry all. Why are you standing still like that? Are you angry? Hi, there, Mitia!" "What's the matter?" Mitia cried in a vexed tone.
What grace, what distinction in his pose, and especially in the hand which dealt the cards! Sergei Kovroff's hands were decidedly worthy of attention. They were almost always clad in new gloves, which he only took off on special occasions, at dinner, or when he had some writing to do, or when he sat down to a game of cards.
I could get rid of it in Geneva or Paris," he went on in a jesting tone. "What do you think? Of course!" Sergei Antonovitch took him up, but in a serious tone. "You or some one else in any case it would be a good bargain. For my acquaintance has to go back to Asia, and has only a few days to spare.
That evening at eight o'clock, the guests began to arrive. Madame Perekatov with great affability received and 'entertained' the ladies, Mashenka the girls; Sergei Sergeitch talked about the crops with the gentlemen and continually glanced towards his wife.
That morning he received a note from Kovroff, in which the worthy Sergei complained of ill health and begged the prince to come and dine with him and cheer him up. The prince complied with his request, and appearing at the appointed time found Count Kallash alone with his host.
"Here's what, Sergei Ivanovich, I'm a sick woman...Understand? sick in a bad way...With the most nasty disease...Do you know which?" "Go on!" said Platonov, nodding his head. "And I've been that way for a long time...more than a month...a month and a half, maybe...Yes, more than a month, because I found out about this on the Trinity..." Platonov quickly rubbed his forehead with his hand.
"Well, now, we have exchanged pleasantries," laughed Lichonin. "But it's amazing that we haven't met once just here. Evidently, you come to Anna Markovna's quite frequently?" "Even too much so." "Sergei Ivanich is our most important guest!" naively shrieked Niura. "Sergei Ivanich is a sort of brother among us!" "Fool!" Tamara stopped her. "That seems strange to me," continued Lichonin.
This woman, who stands regularly in the porch of the Church of the Ascension, has been saying that Tiet Nikonich loved Tatiana Markovna, and she him." "I know that," he interrupted impatiently. "That is no crime." "And she was sought in marriage by the late Count Sergei Ivanovich " "I have heard that, too.
And Sergei, very well satisfied with his own superiority, cleared his throat, remained quiet for a moment, whistled a note, and then continued to develop his theme. "Thinking? Is that an occupation for a working man? Look at your father; he doesn't think much; he lives. He loves your wife, and they laugh at you together; you wise fool! That's about it! Just listen to them! Blast them!
"Harder, to starboard! You cursed loafers!" The master cries again, anger and anxiety in his voice. "Shout away!" mutters Sergei. "Here's your miserable devil of a son, who couldn't break a straw across his knee, and you put him to steer a raft; and then you yell so that all the river hears you.
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