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Updated: May 23, 2025
"On the table," replied Matvey, glancing with inquiring sympathy at his master; and, after a short pause, he added with a sly smile, "They've sent from the carriage-jobbers." Stepan Arkadyevitch made no reply, he merely glanced at Matvey in the looking-glass. In the glance, in which their eyes met in the looking-glass, it was clear that they understood one another.
After that Stepan, picking up the parcel they had left, containing cracknels or a shirt, would heave a sigh and say, winking in their direction: "The female sex!" The mill with two sets of millstones worked day and night. I used to help Stepan; I liked the work, and when he went off I was glad to stay and take his place.
And, anxious to change the conversation, he inquired about what interested them both the new head of Stepan Arkadyevitch's department, a man not yet old, who had suddenly been promoted to so high a position. Alexey Alexandrovitch had previously felt no liking for Count Anitchkin, and had always differed from him in his opinions.
Three days after the quarrel, Prince Stepan Arkadyevitch Oblonsky Stiva, as he was called in the fashionable world woke up at his usual hour, that is, at eight o'clock in the morning, not in his wife's bedroom, but on the leather-covered sofa in his study.
His wife trembled at the very thought of displeasing her, while the homage paid her by provincial society was carried almost to a pitch that suggested idolatry. So Stepan Trofimovitch, too, had a good time. He was a member of the club, lost at cards majestically, and was everywhere treated with respect, though many people regarded him only as a "learned man."
Do remember that? You have distinguished yourself all your life, Stepan Trofimovitch." "That was only a moment of weakness, a moment when we were alone," he exclaimed mournfully. "But is it possible, is it possible, to break off everything for the sake of such petty impressions? Can it be that nothing more has been left between us after those long years?"
I want to enjoy myself, and here they perform a funeral service for me! What an outrage! I can't stand this any longer. I'm going away!" "Jean, I am also going. I'm weary, too," announced the gentleman with the side whiskers. "Vassa," cried Zvantzev to his lady, "dress yourself!" "Yes, it's time to go," said the red-haired lady to Ookhtishchev. "It is cold, and it will soon be dark." "Stepan!
Stepan, a sturdily-built young fellow, whose duties were those of a footman, rushed headlong into the flower-garden, and tried to capture Mumu, but she cleverly slipped from his fingers, and with her tail in the air, fled full speed to Gerasim, who was at that instant in the kitchen, knocking out and cleaning a barrel, turning it upside down in his hands like a child's drum.
He was lying on the sofa and muttering. "Doctor, please! . . . doctor!" "Eh? Ask Domna!" muttered Stepan Lukitch. "What?" "They said at the meeting . . . Vlassov said . . . Who? . . . what?" And to her horror Nellie saw that the doctor was as delirious as her husband. What was to be done? "I must go for the Zemstvo doctor," she decided.
What they lay particular stress on is the thing being carried on honestly," said Stepan Arkadyevitch with emphasis. But the Moscow significance of the word "honest" was lost on Alexey Alexandrovitch. "Honesty is only a negative qualification," he said. "Well, you'll do me a great service, anyway," said Stepan Arkadyevitch, "by putting in a word to Pomorsky just in the way of conversation...."
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