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In his own words, he loved Turgenev, the singer of virginal love and purity, of youth, and of the melancholy Russian landscape; but he loved virginal love, not from knowledge but from hearsay, as something abstract, existing outside real life. Now he assured himself that he loved Anna Akimovna platonically, ideally, though he did not know what those words meant.
You are drawn out and turn into the finest wire. Subjectively this finds expression in a curious voluptuous feeling which is impossible to compare with anything." Anna Akimovna, standing at the top of the stairs, saw each of them give Mishenka a note. "Good-bye! Come again!" she called to them, and ran into her bedroom.
"Anna Akimovna," he said, laying his hand on his heart and raising his eyebrows, "you are my mistress and my benefactress, and no one but you can tell me what I ought to do about marriage, for you are as good as a mother to me. . . . But kindly forbid them to laugh and jeer at me downstairs. They won't let me pass without it." "How do they jeer at you?" "They call me Mashenka's Mishenka."
Better die, unhappy woman!" "Why is he playing these antics?" thought Anna Akimovna with annoyance. "One can see at once he is used to dealing with merchants." "Speak to me like a human being," she said. "I don't care for farces. "Yes, madam; five bereaved children round their mother's coffin with funeral candles that's a farce? Eh?" said Tchalikov bitterly, and turned away.
"Hold your tongue," whispered his wife, and she pulled at his sleeve. "The place has not been tidied up, madam," she said, addressing Anna Akimovna; "please excuse it . . . you know what it is where there are children. A crowded hearth, but harmony." "I am not going to give them the fifteen hundred," Anna Akimovna thought again.
The old women had had enough to eat before the morning was over, and an hour before supper had had tea and buns, and so they were now eating with effort as it were, from a sense of duty. "Oh, my girl!" sighed Auntie, as Anna Akimovna ran into the dining-room and sat down beside her. "You've frightened me to death!"
Only the two old women glanced askance at Anna Akimovna with amazement: she was humming, and it was a sin to sing at table. "Our mistress, our beauty, our picture," Agafyushka began chanting with sugary sweetness. "Our precious jewel! The people, the people that have come to-day to look at our queen. Lord have mercy upon us!
"Well," she said, "it would have been all right. I would have married him." "Anna Akimovna," said Mishenka, coming noiselessly into the drawing-room. "How you frightened me!" she said, trembling all over. "What do you want?"
The foremen ate, talked, and kept looking with amazement at Anna Akimovna, how she had grown up and how handsome she had become!
Pimenov comes home from the factory in the evenings he is a little hard of hearing." But Anna Akimovna was by now relieved that there was nothing more for her to do here; she nodded to them and went rapidly out of the room. Pimenov went to see her out. "Have you been long in our employment?" she asked in a loud voice, without turning to him. "From nine years old.
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