Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
My father, for instance, donated a lodging-house, and you what have you done?" Mayakin's wrinkles quivered and sank downward, wherefore his face assumed a sickly, weeping expression. "How will you justify yourself?" asked Foma, softly, without lifting his eyes from him. "Hold your tongue, you puppy!" said the old man in a low voice, casting a glance of alarm about the room. "I've said everything!
"Ah, Yakov Tarasovich!" exclaimed the governor with a friendly smile, shaking and squeezing Mayakin's hand, while the old man was at the same time kissing the bishop's hand. "How are you, deathless old man?" "I thank you humbly, your Excellency! My respects to Sophya Pavlovna!" Mayakin spoke fast, whirling like a peg-top amid the crowd of people.
He felt sad and oppressed at the consciousness of being unable to talk so much and so fluently as all these people, and here he recalled that Luba Mayakina had more than once scoffed at him on this account. Foma did not like Mayakin's daughter, and since he had learned from his father of Mayakin's intention to marry him to Luba, the young Gordyeeff began to shun her.
Now, in Mayakin's presence, those who had mocked Foma were silent, looking at the old man questioningly, with curiosity and expectancy. He was calm but his eyes gleamed in a way not at all becoming to the occasion, contentedly and brightly. "Give me some vodka," begged Foma, seating himself at the table, and leaning his chest against its edge. His bent figure look piteous and helpless.
Tattered and crumpled he rocked about in the chair, striking his chest against the edge of the table, and began to whisper something. The merchants exchanged significant glances. Some, nudging one another in the sides, shook their heads at Foma in silence. Yakov Mayakin's face was dark and immobile as though hewn out of stone. "Shall we perhaps unbind him?" whispered Bobrov.
Stupefied by such a dinner, they went to sleep; and for two or three hours Mayakin's house was filled with snoring and with drowsy sighs. Awaking from sleep, they drank tea and talked about local news, the choristers, the deacons, weddings, or the dishonourable conduct of this or that merchant. After tea Mayakin used to say to his wife: "Well, mother, hand me the Bible."
"I don't know, for I am not a fool." "That was well said. The stupid man ought to act at once. Rush forward and overturn." "There, he's broken loose!" exclaimed Yozhov. "You better tell me whether it is true that Mayakin's son has returned?" "Yes." "Why do you ask?" "Nothing." "I can see by your face that there is something." "We know all about his son; we've heard about him."
Gathered together in Lubov's house they would read some books, and whenever he found them reading or loudly arguing, they became silent at his sight. All this removed them further from him. One day when he was at Mayakin's, Luba called him to go for a walk in the garden, and there, walking by his side, asked him with a grimace on her face: "Why are you so unsociable?
Quiet, silent and persistent in his childish desires, he spent all his days over his playthings, with Mayakin's daughter, Luba, quietly looked after by one of the kinswomen, a stout, pock-marked old maid, who was, for some reason or other, nicknamed "Buzya." She was a dull, somewhat timid creature; and even to the children she spoke in a low voice, in words of monosyllables.
Thanks to Mayakin's important position in town and to his extensive acquaintance on the Volga, business was splendid, but Mayakin's zealous interest in his affairs strengthened Foma's suspicions that his godfather was firmly resolved to marry him to Luba, and this made the old man more repulsive to him. He liked Luba, but at the same time she seemed suspicious and dangerous for him.
Word Of The Day