I could not, indeed, put it before the mistress that Gerasim's
courting Tatiana. But, after all, it's true enough; he's a queer sort of
husband. But on the other hand, that devil, God forgive me, has only got
to find out they're marrying Tatiana to Kapiton, he'll smash up
everything in the house, 'pon my soul! There's no reasoning with him;
why, he's such a devil, God forgive my sins, there's no getting over him
nohow . . . 'pon my soul!"
Kapiton's entrance broke the thread of Gavrila's reflections. The
dissipated shoemaker came in, his hands behind him, and lounging
carelessly against a projecting angle of the wall, near the door,
crossed his right foot in front of his left, and tossed his head, as
much as to say, "What do you want?"
Gavrila looked at Kapiton, and drummed with his fingers on the window-
frame. Kapiton merely screwed up his leaden eyes a little, but he did
not look down; he even grinned slightly, and passed his hand over his
whitish locks which were sticking up in all directions. "Well, here I
am. What is it?"
"You're a pretty fellow," said Gavrila, and paused. "A pretty fellow you
are, there's no denying!"
Kapiton only twitched his little shoulders.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25