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Amid all the vain babble of the other characters, Solomin stands out salient, the man who will eventually save Russia without knowing it. His power of will is in inverse proportion to his fluency of speech. The typical Russian, as portrayed by Turgenev, says much, and does little; Solomin lives a life of cheerful, reticent activity.
Had Paklin been sitting next him he would no doubt have poked him in the ribs or slapped him on the shoulder, but as it was, he merely contented himself by nodding and winking in his direction. Between him and Nejdanov sat Markelov, like a dark cloud, and then Solomin.
Not one of them wished to talk, but Solomin was the only one who sat silent peacefully. Both Nejdanov and Markelov seemed inwardly agitated. After tea they set out for the town. Markelov's old servant, who was sitting on the doorstep, accompanied his former master with his habitual dejected glance.
She has given me a golden ring and taken my silver one." "Girls of the people do not wear gold rings," Mariana observed. Tatiana sighed. "I'll take good care of it, my dear; don't be afraid." "Well, sit down, sit down both of you," Solomin began; he had been standing all the while with his head bent a little to one side, gazing at Mariana.
Solomin accepted the cigar and declined the offer about the factory. He stuck to his refusal, however much Sipiagin insisted. "Please don't say 'no' at once, my dear Vassily Fedotitch! Say, at least, that you'll think it over until tomorrow!" "It would make no difference. I wouldn't accept your proposal." "Do think it over till tomorrow, Vassily Fedotitch! It won't cost you anything."
You need neither of you fear the least unpleasantness. And you need not be afraid of the workpeople either. Only let me know what time to expect you." Nejdanov and Mariana exchanged glances. "The day after tomorrow, early in the morning, or the day after that. We can't wait any longer. As likely as not they'll tell me to go tomorrow." "Well then," Solomin said, rising from his chair.
Solomin, as usual, replied very briefly. As soon as he began speaking, Mariana fixed her eyes upon him. He realised that there was something between himself and this young girl that could not be crossed. As for Nejdanov, something even worse had come to pass between him and the master of the house.
"The peasants? There are a good many sweaters and money-lenders among them now, and there are likely to be more in time. This kind only look to their own interests, and as for the others, they are as ignorant as sheep." "Then where are we to turn to?" Solomin smiled. "Seek and ye shall find." There was a constant smile on his lips, but the smile was as full of meaning as the man himself.
He confided to her that he had written to him with the express purpose of trying to get him away from the merchant's factory to his own, which was in a very bad way and needed reorganising. Sipiagin would not for a moment entertain the idea that Solomin would refuse to come, or even so much as appoint another day, though he had himself suggested it.
Markelov was already known to him. This was Pavel, Solomin's factotum. Solomin approached the two visitors slowly and without a word, pressed the hand of each in turn in his own hard bony one. He opened a drawer, pulled out a sealed letter, which he handed to Pavel, also without a word, and the latter immediately left the room.
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