Chapter 3 "Anonymous Story" II

two In this way, I lived peacefully and peacefully with the master, but the unclean and humiliating atmosphere that I was so afraid when I came to the page was always there, and I felt it every day.I don't get on well with Polya.She was a fat, spoiled lecherous woman who adored Orlov because he was the master and despised me because I was a servant.Probably from the eyes of a real page or cook, she is charming, with flushed cheeks, a slightly raised nose, always narrow eyes, and a figure that is transitioning from plump to fat.She paints, paints her eyebrows and lipstick, wears a corset, a skirt lined with a waist pad, and a bracelet made of coins.Her steps were choppy and jerky, and she swayed, or, as the saying goes, twisted her shoulders and swung her hips.Every morning I cleaned the room with her, and the rustle of her skirts, the rustle of her bodice, the clang of her bracelets, the vulgar smell of lipstick, balsamic vinegar, ①, perfume stolen from the master, always To arouse in me a feeling as if I were doing something bad with her.

Either because I didn't partner with her to steal things, or because I didn't show any intention of being her lover, which probably hurt her heart; Hated me from day one.My clumsiness, lack of portmanship, and illness made her feel pitiable and ridiculous, and filled her with disgust.At that time, I had a bad cough, and I often made noise for several nights so that she couldn't sleep well, because her room and mine were only separated by a board wall.Every morning she said to me, "You didn't let me sleep well. You should go to the hospital and lie down instead of working at the master's."

She believed with all her heart that I was not a person, but a thing of infinitely lower value than hers; therefore, like a Roman lady who was not ashamed to bathe in front of her slaves, she sometimes stood in front of me in only my shirt-sleeves. Walk up and down in front of you. Once at lunch (a restaurant brought us soup and roasts every day), I happened to be in a good mood and full of fantasies, so I asked: "Polya, do you believe in God?" "of course!" "So," I went on, "do you believe that the end of the world will come, that there will be a final judgment, and that we will be rewarded for every bad thing we have done?"

She didn't answer a word, just made a contemptuous face.This time I looked into her contented, hard eyes, and I understood that there was neither God, nor conscience, nor law to this utterly vile, visceral creature, If I were going to kill, set fire, or steal, I couldn't find a better accomplice for my money. During the first week of my stay at the Orlovs' house, because of the new environment, and being unaccustomed to being called "you" and lying frequently (saying that the owner was "not at home" when he was at home), I Feel very uncomfortable.In my footman's tuxedo I felt like I was wearing armor.But then I got used to it.I serve the master like a real servant, clean the room, run or drive to carry out the master's various orders.Whenever Orlov did not want to go to Zinaida Fyodorovna's for an appointment, or if he forgot to promise to go to her, I had to drive to Zinamin Street and deliver a letter in person. She herself, told a lie.As a result, things did not live up to the expectations I had when I first came to work as a page, and every day of my new life was wasted, both for me and for my career, because Orlov never No mention was made of his father, nor of his guests, and all I could know about the activities of the eminent stateman was the same as before, except for a little bit from the newspapers and letters from friends. Just news.The hundreds of notes and papers I found and read in my study had nothing to do with the object I was after.Orlov was completely indifferent to his father's lurid activities, as if he had never heard of them, or as if his father had long since died.

"Notes" ①A kind of cosmetics put in the face wash.