It looked funny to me; I think now I am Syvorotka,--honestly
Syvorotka, formerly of the 7th of Hussars!
I went out and looked around. The Pole and the Lett were talking
and gazing from time to time at the upper windows. Then the Pole
approached: "How much would you take from me not to go up at all, and
let me do it alone?" and then, becoming sweet and fawning--.
"You see, Syva," he said, "Fost consented. Why shouldn't you? I'll
give you just as much."
"Did you consent, Fost?" I asked.
"Yes," said the Lett, digging in his short nose, "I did. I have
grown-up daughters at home. I cannot. Besides he gives me money, so
why shouldn't I? I will stay in the corridor and won't let anybody
come in, on this side of the House. I know nothing of your business.
Go on, have your pleasure."
"No, Pashinsky," I said, "that will not do. I must be with you. I have
to protect you besides, you idiot; Fost can only see what is in the
house, but supposing someone comes from down here? You think they will
forget such an outrage to the Soviets? I will be with you somewhere
behind, and when you call me I will come out. Hope you won't forget
me."
Pashinsky thought over my proposition for a second,--thinking was
a strenuous effort for him. His obscene face wore a suffering and
preoccupied expression; then he said:
"I think you are right. We'll let Fost stay and watch the inner doors,
and you and I will be alone in this side of the house.
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