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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"Stories by Foreign Authors: Russian"

By the feeble light shed by the candle through the
paper, amid the encircling darkness, could be seen the seal-skin cover
of the lunch-case, the supper arranged upon it, Guskof's sheepskin
jacket, his face, and his small red hands which he used in lifting the
patties from the pan. Everything around us was black; and only by
straining the sight could be seen the dark battery, the dark form of the
sentry moving along the breastwork, on all sides the watch-fires, and on
high the ruddy stars.
Guskof wore a melancholy, almost guilty smile as though it were awkward
for him to look into my face after his confession. He drank still
another glass of liquor, and ate ravenously, emptying the saucepan.
"Yes; for you it must be a relief all the same," said I, for the sake of
saying something,--"your acquaintance with the adjutant. He is a very
good man, I have heard."
"Yes," replied the cashiered officer, "he is a kind man; but he can't
help being what he is, with his education, and it is useless to expect
it."
A flush seemed suddenly to cross his face. "You remarked his coarse jest
this evening about the ambuscade;" and Guskof, though I tried several
times to interrupt him, began to justify himself before me, and to show
that he had not run away from the ambuscade, and that he was not a
coward as the adjutant and Capt.


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