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PYETUSHKOV

'But why should I go to see him? Upon my word!'

'Why? Why, because he says you've a good heart; let me see if you've a good heart.'

'But what good can I do him?'

'Oh, that's my business. You may be sure things are in a bad way, since I've come to you. It's certain I could think of nothing else to do.'

Onisim paused for a while.

'Well, come along, Vassilissa, please, come along.'

'Oh, Onisim Sergeitch, I don't want to be friendly with him again . . .'

'Well, and you needn't—who's talking of it? You've only to say a couple of words; to say, Why does your honour grieve? . . . give over. . . . That's all.'

'Really, Onisim Sergeitch . . .'

'Why, am I to go down on my knees to you, eh? All right—there, I'm on my knees . . .'

'But really . . .'

'Why, what a girl it is! Even that doesn't touch her! . . .'

Vassilissa at last consented, put a kerchief on her head, and went out with Onisim.

'You wait here a little, in the passage,' he said to her, when they reached Pyetushkov's abode, 'and I'll go and let the master know . . .'

He went in to Ivan Afanasiitch. Pyetushkov was standing in the middle of the room, both

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