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Artzybashev, Mikhail Petrovich, 1878-1927

"Sanine"


"He already owes me two hundred and fifty," thought he, as he glanced
at Tanaroff in passing. Then, more irritably, "It's astonishing, upon
my word! Of course we're good friends, and all that, but I wonder that
he's not the least bit ashamed of himself. He might at any rate make
some excuse for owing me all that money. No, I won't lend him another
penny," he thought maliciously.
The orderly now entered the room, a little freckled fellow who in slow,
clumsy fashion stood at attention, and, without looking at Sarudine,
said,
"If you please, sir, you asked for beer, but there isn't any more."
Sarudine's face grew red, as involuntarily he glanced at Tanaroff.
"Well, this is really a bit too much!" he thought. "He knows that I am
hard up, yet beer has to be sent for."
"There's very little vodka left, either," added the soldier.
"All right! Damn you! You've still got a couple of roubles. Go and buy
what is wanted."
"Please, sir, I haven't got any money at all."
"How's that? What do you mean by lying?" exclaimed Sarudine, stopping
short.
"If you please, sir, I was told to pay the washerwoman one rouble and
seventy copecks, which I did, and I put the other thirty copecks on the
dressing-table, sir.


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