Chapter 72 Part Two - Ten

When Nekhludoff returned to the city this time, he felt that the city was very novel.In the evening, he returned to his apartment from the train station under the bright street lights.Every room still smelled of stinky camphor, and Agrafena and Kearney were exhausted, full of resentment, and even quarreled over packing the clothes, which were only useful for hanging them out to dry, to let the air out, and then to refill them. hide.Nekhludoff's room was not occupied, but it was not in order either.Many boxes blocked the passage, and it was difficult to get in and out of the room, so Nekhludoff's return at this time obviously hindered the work he was doing here out of strange habits.Nekhludoff had taken part in such activities before, but the poverty of the countryside had made such a deep impression on his mind that he found them obviously absurd and repelled them.He resolved to move to the hotel the next day, and let Agrafena do the packing--which she considered necessary--until his sister came, and she would finally clean up the whole house.

Nekhludoff left the house early the next morning, found a rough, dirty, furnished apartment near the prison, asked for two rooms, and ordered the servants to move there the things he had picked out from the house. , Go to a lawyer yourself. It's cold outside.Such spring chills often occur after thunderstorms.It was so cold and the wind was so bitter that Nekhludoff felt cold in his thin overcoat, so he kept speeding up his steps to warm his body. He recalled all kinds of people in the countryside: women, children, old people, their poverty and hardship (as if he had seen it for the first time), especially the little old man who was kicking around with two legs and no legs. A child with thin legs and a wry smile.He could not help comparing the situation in the countryside with that in the city.He passed butcher shops, fish shops, clothing shops, and saw so many well-dressed bosses with fat heads and ears. He couldn't help being surprised. It was like seeing it for the first time, because there was no such person in the countryside.These bosses evidently believe that their attempt to lure ignorant customers is not a bad thing, but a very beneficial activity.In the city, there were also well-fed private coachmen with huge hips and buttons on their backs, porters in silk-tached caps, and curly-haired maids in aprons.Particularly conspicuous were the cabbies with the backs of their heads shaved bald. They stretched their hands and feet lazily leaning on the buggies, and looked at the passers-by with disdain and lust.Nekhludoff saw that these were peasants who had lost their land and were forced to go to the town.Among these country people, some are good at taking advantage of the urban conditions to live a life of upper class, and they are full of self-satisfaction.But some people live worse in the city than in the country, so they are even more pitiful.Nekhludoff thought that such poor people were the shoemakers who worked at the windows in the basement; so did the laundresses, who were thin, pale, with disheveled hair and thin arms, ironing clothes at the open windows. Clothes, while soapy steam kept coming out of the windows.The two painters whom Nekhludoff met were equally miserable. They wore aprons, bare feet and shoes, and were covered with paint from head to toe.They rolled their sleeves up to the elbows, showing their tanned, muscular arms, and they held paint buckets and cursed at each other incessantly.Their faces were tired and angry.The wagon driver, covered in dust and with a black face, was sitting on the cart, and he had the same expression.Those men and women with ragged clothes, swollen faces, and children standing on street corners begging for food had the same expressions.Nekhludoff, driving past the tavern, saw the faces of the people in it from the windows in the same way.There, among the dirty tables laden with bottles and tea-things, waiters in white were swaying to and fro, and around the tables sat profusely flushed and dull-faced men with mouths Shouted and sang.There was a person sitting by the window, frowning, sticking out his lips, staring blankly ahead, as if desperately trying to remember something.

"What are they doing here?" thought Nekhludoff, involuntarily inhaling the dust brought by the cold wind and the acrid smell of fresh paint in the air. In one street a line of iron wagons, rumbling terribly over the bumpy road, overtook him and gave him a headache and ear ache.He hastened his pace, trying to get to the front of the truck.Amidst the rumble of the iron, he suddenly heard someone calling his name.He stopped, and saw a buggy not far ahead, and an officer sat in the car, with a radiant complexion, a moist complexion, and a mustache that was turned up at both ends, and the beard was oiled.He waved warmly to Nekhludoff and smiled with a row of white teeth.

"Nekhludoff! Is that you?" Nekhludoff was delighted at first. "Ah! Shenbok!" he said cheerfully, but he saw at once that there was nothing to cheer about. This was Shenbok who had been to Nekhludoff's aunt.Nekhludoff had not seen him for a long time, but it was said that, despite his debts, he had been transferred from the infantry to the cavalry, and somehow he remained in the circle of the rich. His self-satisfied air proved it. "Oh, it's so good to meet you! I don't have a single acquaintance in the city at the moment. Well, man, you're getting old," said Shenbackock, jumping out of the carriage, and puffing out his chest. "I recognized you from the way you walked. Hey, how about we go to dinner? Which restaurant is better?"

"I don't know if I will have time," answered Nekhludoff, eager to get rid of his friend as quickly as possible without offending him. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "There is something, sir. About guardianship. I'm guardian now. I'm in charge of Samanov's estate. In fact, he's a rich man. He's got softening of the brain. But he has fifty-four thousand dessiatines. And the land!" he said pompously, as if he owned so much land himself. "His property was ruined badly. All the land was leased to farmers. But they didn't pay any money, and the arrears amounted to more than 80,000 rubles. I went there for a year and changed the situation, allowing the owner to increase income by 7%. Ten. What do you think?" He said triumphantly.

Nekhludoff recalled that he had heard people say that Schenbock, having squandered all his property and owed a huge debt, had become the estate guardian of an old spendthrift rich man through a special relationship.Now he lives off this guardianship job. "How can we get rid of him without offending him?" thought Nekhludoff, looking at his plump, radiant, oiled face, and listening to him talk kindly about which restaurant was good. Bragging about his proficiency in guardianship. "Well, where are we going to eat?" "I have no time," said Nekhludoff, looking at his watch.

"Then one more thing. The race tonight. Are you going?" "No, I'm not going." "Go! I don't have any horses myself. But I always bet on Grisha's horses. Do you remember? He has some fine horses. You just go, and we'll have supper together." "I can't have supper either," said Nekhludoff, smiling. "Hey, what's the matter? Where are you going now? Shall I take you there?" "I'll go to a lawyer. He lives here, just around the corner," said Nekhludoff. "Oh, by the way, what are you doing in prison? You're interceding for the prisoner, aren't you? The Korchagins told me," said Shenbok, laughing. "They've gone. What's the matter? Tell me!"

"Yes, yes, it's all true," replied Nekhludoff, "but how can it be said in the street!" "Yes, yes, you've always been a weirdo. So you go to the races?" "No, I don't have time and I don't want to. Please don't be angry." "Hey, angry, where are you talking! Where do you live now?" Shen Baoke asked, suddenly his face became serious, his eyes froze, and his brows frowned.He obviously wanted to recall something.Nekhludoff saw a dull expression on his face, exactly like the frowning man with his lips drawn out which he had just seen with surprise from the restaurant window.

"It's cold! Isn't it?" "Yes, yes, it's cold." "Is the thing I bought in your cart?" Shen Bock turned to ask the coachman. "Well, good-bye, then. It's a pleasure to meet you, a pleasure to meet you," said Schönbach, and, after pressing Nekhludoff's hand firmly, he jumped into the carriage and opened his large hand in a white suede glove. He raised it to his ruddy face, waved it, and smiled as usual, showing strangely white teeth. "Is that what I am?" thought Nekhludoff, walking on to the lawyer's house. "Yes, I am not exactly like this, but I really hope to be such a person and live like this for the rest of my life."