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Updated: June 24, 2025
Had he not already produced a good impression on Nejdanov, the latter would have thought that he was backing out, but such an idea did not occur to him. An hour later, when from every story, every staircase and door of the enormous building, a noisy crowd of workpeople came streaming out, the carriage containing Markelov, Nejdanov, and Solomin drove out of the gates on to the road.
Nejdanov rose and followed her. Her room, as she called it, was somewhat smaller than his, but the furniture was altogether smarter and newer. Some flowers in a crystal vase stood on the window-sill and there was an iron bedstead in a corner. "Isn't Solomin a darling!" Mariana exclaimed. "But we mustn't get too spoiled. I don't suppose we shall often have rooms like these.
The footman left the room respectfully and Solomin sent for Pavel, had a talk with him, ran across to the factory once more, then putting on a black coat with a very long waist, which had been made by a provincial tailor, and a shabby top-hat which instantly gave his face a wooden expression, took his seat in the phaeton.
Solomin asked again, lowering his voice. "We don't know," Mariana replied. Solomin glanced at Nejdanov, but the latter merely shook his head. Solomin stretched out his hand and carefully snuffed the candle. "I tell you what, my children," he said at last, "come to me at the factory. It's not beautiful there, but safe, at any rate. I will hide you. I have a little spare room there.
His head was resting against one arm, while the other lay weak and helpless on his knee. She went up to him. "Goodmorning, Alexai. Why, you haven't undressed? Haven't you slept? How pale you are!" His heavy eyelids rose slowly. "No, I haven't." "Aren't you well, or is it the after-effects of yesterday?" Nejdanov shook his head. "I couldn't sleep after Solomin went into your room." "When?"
When he said to Mariana, "Whatever I do, I tell you beforehand, nothing will really surprise you," and when he had spoken of the two men in him that would not let each other live, had she not felt a kind of vague presentiment? Then why had she ignored it? Why was it she did not now dare to look at Solomin, as though he were her accomplice...as though he, too, were conscience-stricken?
Besides several people in the town already know that he's here." "Really?" "Yes. Somebody must have let it out. Besides Nejdanov has been recognised." "For all the dressing up!" Solomin muttered to himself. "Allow me to introduce you," he said aloud, "Miss Sinitska, Miss Mashurina! Won't you sit down?" Mashurina nodded her head slightly and sat down.
Boris Andraevitch asked, screwing up his handsome nose; "what did you say the gentleman's name was?" "Mr. Paklin, sir." "Paklin!" Kollomietzev exclaimed; "a real country name. Paklin. .. Solomin... De vrais noms ruraux, hein?" "Did you say," Boris Andraevitch continued, still turned towards the footman with his nose screwed up, "that the business was an urgent one?" "The gentleman said so, sir."
No sooner had Solomin crossed the threshold, almost knocking against Sipiagin, when the latter extended both his hands, saying with an amiable smile and a friendly shake of the head, "How very nice of you to come.... I can hardly thank you enough." Then he led him up to Valentina Mihailovna.
The young men remained for some time motionless, and both were silent. "Nejdanov..." Solomin began at last, and stopped. "Nejdanov..." he began a second time, "tell me about this girl... tell me everything you can. What has her life been until now? Who is she? Why is she here?" Nejdanov told Solomin briefly what he knew about her.
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