Looking at him, he grew fonder and fonder of him, and,
forgetting for a moment the matter in hand, respectfully asked
Petunikoff:
"Where did you study?"
"In the technological institute. Why?" answered the other,
smiling:
"Nothing. Only . . . excuse me!" The soldier lowered his head,
and then suddenly exclaimed, "What a splendid thing education is!
Science--light. My brother, I am as stupid as an owl before the
sun . . . Your honour, let us finish this job."
With an air of decision he stretched out his hand to Petunikoff
and said:
"Well, five hundred?"
"Not more than one hundred roubles, Egor Terentievitch."
Petunikoff shrugged his shoulders as if sorry at being unable to
give more, and touched the soldier's hairy hand with his long
white fingers. They soon ended the matter, for the soldier gave
in quickly and met Petunikoff's wishes. And when Vaviloff had
received the hundred roubles and signed the paper, he threw the
pen down on the table and said, bitterly:
"Now I will have a nice time! They will laugh at me, they will
cry shame on me, the devils!"
"But you tell them that I paid all your claim," suggested
Petunikoff, calmly puffing out clouds of smoke and watching them
float upwards.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111