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Updated: June 24, 2025
"I don't need your fashion plates, do you hear me? Get out of here, and don't ever show your face again." "Mrs. Zarubkin, I " "Get out of here," repeated the captain's wife, quite beside herself. The poor tailor stuck his yard measure, which he had already taken out, back into his pocket and left.
He picked up his fashion plates, put the yard measure in his pocket, rammed his silk hat sorrowfully on his head and set off for the captain's house. He found Mrs. Zarubkin pacing the room excitedly, greeted her, but carefully avoided meeting her eyes. "Well, what did you find out?" "Nothing, Mrs. Zarubkin," said Abramka dejectedly. "Unfortunately I couldn't find out a thing." "Idiot!
He wanted to prove that he understood his trade just as well as any tailor in Moscow, and that it was quite superfluous for her to order her gowns outside of Chmyrsk. He would come out the triumphant competitor of Moscow. As each day passed and Mrs. Zarubkin did not appear in his shop, his nervousness increased. Finally she ordered a dressing-jacket from him but not a word said of a ball gown.
As a matter of fact, he had attained, if not perfection in tailoring, yet remarkable skill. To this all the ladies of the S Regiment could attest with conviction. Abramka removed his silk hat, stepped into the kitchen, and said gravely, with profound feeling: "Mrs. Zarubkin, I am entirely at your service." "Come into the reception room. I have something very important to speak to you about."
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