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Updated: June 24, 2025
At last, after the usual outburst of politeness and amiability, which appears on the faces of a bored assembly on the point of breaking up, after sudden handshakings and friendly smiles, the weary guests and weary hosts separated. Solomin, who had been given almost the best bedroom on the second floor, with English toilette accessories and a bathroom attached, went in to Nejdanov.
Valentina Mihailovna, with a most charming smile, handed Solomin a cup of coffee; he drank it and was already looking round for his hat when Sipiagin took him gently by the arm and led him into his study. There he first gave him an excellent cigar and then made him a proposal to enter his factory on the most advantageous terms. "You will be absolute master there, Vassily Fedotitch, I assure you!"
Sipiagin kept looking into Solomin's face, trying to guess his opinion, asked a few timid questions, wanted to know if he was at any rate satisfied with the order of the place. "Oh, the order is all right," Solomin replied, "but I doubt if you can get anything out of it."
"You acted quite rightly," Solomin said, approvingly. Nejdanov slept, while Mariana sat at the window looking out into the garden. Strange to say the angry, almost wicked, thoughts that had been tormenting her until Nejdanov and Pavel arrived had completely disappeared. Nejdanov himself was not in the least repulsive or disgusting to her; she was only sorry for him.
"It's impossible to arrest her in any case," Sipiagin remarked thoughtfully; "perhaps she will think better of it and return. I'll write her a note, if I may." "Do please. You may be quite sure... nous offrerons le quidam ... mais nous sommes galants avec les dames et avec celle-la donc!" "But you've made no arrangements about this Solomin," Kollomietzev exclaimed plaintively.
When they reached Borsionkov they had some supper, merely for the sake of politeness, and afterwards lighted cigars and began a discussion, one of those interminable, midnight Russian discussions which in degree and length are only peculiar to Russians and unequalled by people of any other nationality. During the discussion, too, Solomin did not come up to Nejdanov's expectation.
Mariana was not a child, but she was like a child in the directness and simplicity of her feelings. Nejdanov was sincerely enthusiastic in his praise of Markelov, and expressed himself with particular warmth about Solomin. While uttering the most enthusiastic expressions about him, he kept asking himself continually why he had such a high opinion of this man.
They partook of some tea together hastily, after which Solomin put on his grey, greasy working-jacket and set out for the factory; and his life began to go round again like some huge flywheel. But the thread had to be broken again.
And while the latter was reading it carefully, his eyes moving from line to line, Nejdanov sat watching him. Solomin was near the window and the sun, already low in the horizon, was shining full on his tanned face covered with perspiration, on his fair hair covered with dust, making it sparkle like a mass of gold.
Solomin would be kind enough to come, he, Sipiagin, had sent him his carriage, but in the event of his being unable to do so on that day, would he be kind enough to choose any other day that might be convenient for him and the same carriage would be gladly put at his disposal.
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