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The Gambler | Fyodor Dostoyevsky | |
Chapter XV |
Page 7 of 8
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"What? You mean to say that we should spend the whole in two months?" "Certainly. Does that surprise you very much? Ah, vil esclave! Why, one month of that life would be better than all your previous existence. One month--et apres, le deluge! Mais tu ne peux comprendre. Va! Away, away! You are not worth it.--Ah, que fais-tu?" For, while drawing on the other stocking, I had felt constrained to kiss her. Immediately she shrunk back, kicked me in the face with her toes, and turned me neck and prop out of the room. "Eh bien, mon 'utchitel'," she called after me, "je t'attends, si tu veux. I start in a quarter of an hour's time." I returned to my own room with my head in a whirl. It was not my fault that Polina had thrown a packet in my face, and preferred Mr. Astley to myself. A few bank-notes were still fluttering about the floor, and I picked them up. At that moment the door opened, and the landlord appeared--a person who, until now, had never bestowed upon me so much as a glance. He had come to know if I would prefer to move to a lower floor--to a suite which had just been tenanted by Count V. For a moment I reflected. "No!" I shouted. "My account, please, for in ten minutes I shall be gone." "To Paris, to Paris!" I added to myself. "Every man of birth must make her acquaintance." |
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The Gambler Fyodor Dostoyevsky |