United States or Bouvet Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
KATYA SERGYEVNA, her sister. PORFIRY PLATONITCH, her neighbor. MATVY ILYITCH KOLYAZIN, government commissioner. VIKTOR SITNIKOV, a would-be liberal. PROKOFITCH, head servant to Nikolai. DUNYASHA, a maid servant. MITYA, infant of Fedosya. TIMOFEITCH, manager for Vassily.
"What is there to say?" mutters Nikolay Timofeitch, shrugging his shoulders nervously and turning pale. "There's no need of talk. . . . Wipe your eyes, that's all. I . . . I ask for nothing."
This Timofeitch, a little old man of much experience and astuteness, with faded yellow hair, a weather-beaten red face, and tiny tear-drops in his shrunken eyes, unexpectedly appeared before Bazarov, in his shortish overcoat of stout greyish-blue cloth, girt with a strip of leather, and in tarred boots. 'Hullo, old man; how are you? cried Bazarov.
Polinka bends still lower over the counter and asks softly: "And why did you leave us so early on Thursday, Nikolay Timofeitch?" "Hm! It's queer you noticed it," says the shopman, with a smirk. "You were so taken up with that fine student that . . . it's queer you noticed it!" Polinka flushes crimson and remains mute.
'To be sure, Yevgeny; I have a capital room there in the little lodge; he will be very comfortable there. 'Have you had a lodge put up then? 'Why, where the bath-house is, put in Timofeitch. 'That is next to the bathroom, Vassily Ivanitch added hurriedly. 'It's summer now ... I will run over there at once, and make arrangements; and you, Timofeitch, meanwhile bring in their things.
'Twenty-two in all, Timofeitch added, with an air of displeasure. The flapping of slippers was heard, and Vassily Ivanovitch reappeared. 'In a few minutes your room will be ready to receive you, he cried triumphantly. Arkady ... Nikolaitch? I think that is right?
Polinka, a thin fair little person whose mother is the head of a dressmaking establishment, is standing in the middle of the shop looking about for some one. A dark-browed boy runs up to her and asks, looking at her very gravely: "What is your pleasure, madam?" "Nikolay Timofeitch always takes my order," answers Polinka.
"The black's from eighty kopecks and the coloured from two and a half roubles. I shall never come and see you again," Nikolay Timofeitch adds in an undertone. "Why?" "Why? It's very simple. You must understand that yourself. Why should I distress myself? It's a queer business! Do you suppose it's a pleasure to me to see that student carrying on with you? I see it all and I understand.
"You see, I'm back again. . . . Show me some gimp, please." "Gimp for what purpose?" "For a bodice trimming to trim a whole dress, in fact." "Certainly." Nickolay Timofeitch lays several kinds of gimp before Polinka; she looks at the trimmings languidly and begins bargaining over them. "Oh, come, a rouble's not dear," says the shopman persuasively, with a condescending smile.
She sat down at once on the edge of a chair, without any affectation of ceremony. Elisei went out. 'You became acquainted with him in Novgorod? 'Yes, in Novgorod, she answered, clasping her hands under her kerchief. 'I only heard the day before yesterday, from Elisei Timofeitch, of his death.
Word Of The Day