But these he
shook away; and a wilder light than ever came into his eyes.
"He goes to Kiev as usual, foolish fellow; now I see what all the row is
about. When he returns, three months after, he goes to his house. Empty.
The neighbors will not speak. At last one says something about Pavel
Michaieloff, the great proprietor, whose house and farm are some versts
away--my good fellow, you have got the palsy, or is it drink?--he goes
and seeks out the house of Pavel--yes, yes, the story is not new--Pavel
is at the open window, smoking--he goes up to the window--there is a
woman inside--when she sees him she utters a loud scream, and rushes
for protection to the man Michaieloff--then all the fat is in the fire
naturally--"
The Russian choked and gasped; drops of perspiration stood on his
forehead; he looked wildly around.
"Water?" said Reitzei. "Poor devil, you need some water to cool down
your excitement. You are making as much fuss as if that kind of thing
had never happened in the world before."
But he rose and got him some water, which the man drained eagerly; then
he continued his story with the same fierce and angry vehemence.
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