United States or Philippines ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


"Cigarette-papers? good. . . . Was wollen Sie noch?" "Ich will . . . there's nothing I will, but. . . But do sit down! I shall think of something else in a minute." "It is shocking for a maiden in a man's room to remain. . . . Mr. Vaxin, you are, I see, a naughty man. . . . I understand. . . . To order cigarette-papers one does not a person wake. . . . I understand you. . . ."

The corpse that turned round in its coffin came back to his mind, and the figures of his deceased mother-in-law, of a colleague who had hanged himself, and of a girl who had drowned herself, rose before his imagination. . . . Vaxin began trying to dispel these gloomy ideas, but the more he tried to drive them away the more haunting the figures and fearful fancies became.

Come, brother in misfortune, let us go and have a drop to drown our troubles!" And the enemies went out of the gate arm-in-arm. DMITRI OSIPOVITCH VAXIN, the architect, returned from town to his holiday cottage greatly impressed by the spiritualistic séance at which he had been present.

"Your wife is an honest, good woman, and you ought her to love! Ja! She is noble! . . . I will not be her foe!" "You are a fool! simply a fool! Do you understand, a fool?" Vaxin leaned against the door-post, folded his arms and waited for his panic to pass off.

Rosalia Karlovna turned and went out of the room. Somewhat reassured by his conversation with her and ashamed of his cowardice, Vaxin pulled the bedclothes over his head and shut his eyes. For about ten minutes he felt fairly comfortable, then the same nonsense came creeping back into his mind. . . . He swore to himself, felt for the matches, and without opening his eyes lighted a candle.

From thought-reading they had passed imperceptibly to spirits, and from spirits to ghosts, from ghosts to people buried alive. . . . A gentleman had read a horrible story of a corpse turning round in the coffin. Vaxin himself had asked for a saucer and shown the young ladies how to converse with spirits.

Vaxin turned so as to face the door-post, but at that instant it seemed as though somebody tweaked his night-shirt from behind and touched him on the shoulder. "Damnation! . . . Rosalia Karlovna!" No answer. Vaxin hesitatingly opened the door and peeped into the room. The virtuous German was sweetly slumbering. The tiny flame of a night-light threw her solid buxom person into relief.

He fancied he heard someone breathing heavily over his head, as though Uncle Klavdy had stepped out of his frame and was bending over his nephew. . . . Vaxin felt unbearably frightened. He clenched his teeth and held his breath in terror. At last, when a cockchafer flew in at the open window and began buzzing over his bed, he could bear it no longer and gave a violent tug at the bellrope.

But even the light was no use. To Vaxin' s excited imagination it seemed as though someone were peeping round the corner and that his uncle's eyes were moving. "I'll ring her up again . . . damn the woman!" he decided. "I'll tell her I'm unwell and ask for some drops." Vaxin rang. There was no response. He rang again, and as though answering his ring, he heard the church-bell toll the hour.

He had called up among others the spirit of his deceased uncle, Klavdy Mironitch, and had mentally asked him: "Has not the time come for me to transfer the ownership of our house to my wife?" To which his uncle's spirit had replied: "All things are good in their season." "There is a great deal in nature that is mysterious and . . . terrible . . ." thought Vaxin, as he got into bed.