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Artzybashev, Mikhail Petrovich, 1878-1927

"Sanine"

.." prompted Dubova.
"Problems," continued Goschienko, affecting not to hear. "We shall
begin by making out a programme of such works as we intend to read, and
I propose to devote the present evening to this purpose."
"Soloveitchik, are your workmen coming?" asked Dubova.
"Yes, of course they are!" replied Soloveitchik, jumping up as if he
had been stung. "We have already sent to fetch them."
"Soloveitchik, don't shout like that!" exclaimed Goschienko.
"Here they are!" said Schafroff, who was listening to Goschienko's
words with almost reverent attention.
Outside, the gate creaked, and again the dog's gruff bark was heard.
"They've come!" cried Soloveitchik as he rushed out of the room.
"Lie down, Sultan!" he shouted from the house-door.
There was a sound of heavy footseps of coughing, and of men's voices.
Then a young student from the Polytechnic School entered, very like
Goschienko, except that he was dark and plain. With him, looking
awkward and shy, came two workmen, with grimy hands, and wearing short
jackets over their dirty red shirts. One of them was very tall and
gaunt, whose clean-shaven, sallow face bore the mark of years of semi-
starvation, perpetual care and suppressed hatred.


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