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Updated: June 8, 2025
Listening to him, Lobytko, who was a great liar and consequently believed no one, looked at him sceptically and laughed. Merzlyakov twitched his eyebrows and, without removing his eyes from the "Vyestnik Evropi," said: "That's an odd thing! How strange! . . . throws herself on a man's neck, without addressing him by name. .. . She must be some sort of hysterical neurotic."
I let myself go at the beginning and write with an easy mind; but by the time I get to the middle I begin to grow timid and to fear that my story will be too long: I have to remember that the Syeverny Vyestnik has not much money, and that I am one of their expensive contributors.
Here a lot of Jews, with grey beards, and caps on, drove past in a waggonette. . . . The governess walked by with the director's granddaughter. Som ran by in the company of two other dogs. . . . And then Varya, wearing a simple grey dress and red stockings, carrying the "Vyestnik Evropi" in her hand, passed by. She must have been to the town library. . . .
"I don't care to go alone, damn it all! Ryabovitch, wouldn't you like to go for a walk? Eh?" Receiving no answer, he returned, slowly undressed and got into bed. Merzlyakov sighed, put the "Vyestnik Evropi" away, and put out the light. "H'm! . . ." muttered Lobytko, lighting a cigarette in the dark.
Merzlyakov ate without haste, and, as he munched deliberately, read the "Vyestnik Evropi," which he held on his knees. Lobytko talked incessantly and kept filling up his glass with beer, and Ryabovitch, whose head was confused from dreaming all day long, drank and said nothing.
Some stolid German will discover these cells somewhere in the occipital lobes, another German will agree with him, a third will disagree, and a Russian will glance through the article about the cells and reel off an essay about it to the Syeverny Vyestnik.
She didn't speak of the Vyestnik?" "No." "Yet she has read it I happen to know. I'm sorry I can't. Tell me about it, will you?" The Russian article was called "New Womanhood in England." It began with a good-tempered notice of certain novels then popular, and passed on to speculations regarding the new ideals of life set before English women.
Tell me, please; is the article in the Vyestnik your own Russian?" "Not entirely. I have a friend named Korolevitch, who went through it for me." "Korolevitch? I seem to know that name. Is he, by chance, connected with some religious movement, some heresy?" "I was going to say I am sorry he is; yet I can't be sorry for what honours the man.
Lobytko was terribly indignant, and began pacing up and down again. "Well, isn't he an idiot?" he kept saying, stopping first before Ryabovitch and then before Merzlyakov. "What a fool and a dummy a man must be not to get hold of any beer! Eh? Isn't he a scoundrel?" "Of course you can't get beer here," said Merzlyakov, not removing his eyes from the "Vyestnik Evropi." "Oh! Is that your opinion?"
My mother often discovered gross grammatical errors, and pointed them out to my father, and corrected them. When "Anna Karenina" began to come out in the "Russky Vyestnik," long galley-proofs were posted to my father, and he looked them through and corrected them.
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