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My Fellow-Traveller | Maxim Gorky | |
Chapter VII |
Page 4 of 4 |
"Yes, it's all right there," Michael replied. "Well, let it stay there. In the morning John can row it round into the harbor. From there, someone will get it over to Kertch. That's all we can do with the boat." I watched attentively the old man's countenance, but failed to discover any emotion on his phlegmatic, sun-burned, weather-beaten face, over the features of which the flicker from the flames played merrily. 'If only we don't get into trouble." Michael began to give way. "There will be no trouble if you don't let your tongue wag. If the ataman should hear of it, we might get into a scrape, and they also. We have our work to do, and they have to be getting on. Is it far you have to go?" asked the old man again, though I had told him once before I was bound for Tiflis. "That's a long way yet. The ataman might detain them; then, when would they get to Tiflis? So let them be getting on their way. Eh?" "Yes, let them go," all the shepherds agreed, as the old man, when he had finished speaking, closed his lips tightly, and cast an inquiring glance around him, as he fingered his gray beard. "Well, my good fellows, be off, and God bless you!" he exclaimed with a gesture of dismissal. "We will see that the boat goes back, so don't trouble about that!" "Many, many thanks, grandfather!" I said taking off my cap. "What are you thanking me for?" "Thank you; thank you!" I repeated fervently. |
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Creatures That Once Were Men Maxim Gorky |
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