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The Schoolmaster and other stories - Penn State University

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Anton Tchekhovutter a word; she gave a sob <strong>and</strong> went away to her ownroom. <strong>The</strong> bass voices began droning in the stove again,<strong>and</strong> Nadya felt suddenly frightened. She jumped out ofbed <strong>and</strong> went quickly to her m<strong>other</strong>. Nina Ivanovna,with tear-stained face, was lying in bed wrapped in apale blue quilt <strong>and</strong> holding a book in her h<strong>and</strong>s.“M<strong>other</strong>, listen to me!” said Nadya. “I implore you,do underst<strong>and</strong>! If you would only underst<strong>and</strong> how petty<strong>and</strong> degrading our life is. My eyes have been opened,<strong>and</strong> I see it all now. And what is your Andrey Andreitch?Why, he is not intelligent, m<strong>other</strong>! Merciful heavens, dounderst<strong>and</strong>, m<strong>other</strong>, he is stupid!”Nina Ivanovna abruptly sat up.“You <strong>and</strong> your gr<strong>and</strong>m<strong>other</strong> torment me,” she saidwith a sob. “I want to live! to live,” she repeated, <strong>and</strong>twice she beat her little fist upon her bosom. “Let me befree! I am still young, I want to live, <strong>and</strong> you have mademe an old woman between you!”She broke into bitter tears, lay down <strong>and</strong> curled upunder the quilt, <strong>and</strong> looked so small, so pitiful, so foolish.Nadya went to her room, dressed, <strong>and</strong> sitting at thewindow fell to waiting for the morning. She sat all nightthinking, while someone seemed to be tapping on theshutters <strong>and</strong> whistling in the yard.In the morning Granny complained that the wind hadblown down all the apples in the garden, <strong>and</strong> brokendown an old plum tree. It was grey, murky, cheerless,dark enough for c<strong>and</strong>les; everyone complained of thecold, <strong>and</strong> the rain lashed on the windows. After teaNadya went into Sasha’s room <strong>and</strong> without saying aword knelt down before an armchair in the corner <strong>and</strong>hid her face in her h<strong>and</strong>s.“What is it?” asked Sasha.“I can’t …” she said. “How I could go on living herebefore, I can’t underst<strong>and</strong>, I can’t conceive! I despisethe man I am engaged to, I despise myself, I despise allthis idle, senseless existence.”“Well, well,” said Sasha, not yet grasping what wasmeant. “That’s all right … that’s good.”“I am sick of this life,” Nadya went on. “I can’t endurean<strong>other</strong> day here. To-morrow I am going away. Takeme with you for God’s sake!”45

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