The Spy: The Story of a Superfluous ManGorky, Maksim
History
The Spy: The Story of a Superfluous Man
Gorky, Maksim
Russia -- History -- Revolution, 1905-1907 -- Fiction; Russian fiction -- Translations into English; Spy stories
Little black Zarubin was restless as a fly. He smelt of everything,
turned his head from side to side, moved his legs up and down, back and
forth, sent his thin dark hands flying over the table to seize
everything and feel everything. Yevsey suddenly began to feel a heavy
dull irritation rising in him against Zarubin.
"The skunk!" he thought. "He brought me a monster for my money, and
chose a pretty one for himself."
But Yevsey knew that his annoyance at Zarubin had a deeper-seated cause
than this. He filled a large glass of cognac, swallowed it, and opened
his burned mouth and rolled his eyes.
"Capital!" shouted Yakov.
The girls laughed, and for a minute Yevsey was deaf and blind, as if he
had fallen fast asleep.
"This Lydia, Yevsey, my true friend, is a wise girl, oh, so wise!"
Zarubin pulled Yevsey's sleeve to rouse him. "Whenever I merit the
attention of the officials, I will take her away from here, will marry
her, and will establish her in my business. Yes, Lydia darling? Ugh!"
"We'll see," replied the girl, languidly, looking sidewise at his oily
eyes.
"Why are you silent, friend Yevsey?" asked Kapitolina, slapping Yevsey's
shoulder with her heavy hand.
"She addresses everybody by the first name," Yakov remarked.
"All the same to me," said Yevsey, without looking at the girl, and
moving away from her. "Only tell her that I don't like her, and she
should go away."
For a few seconds all kept silence.
"To the devil with you!" said Kapitolina, thickly and calmly. Propping
herself on the table with her hands, she slowly lifted her heavy body
from the chair. Yevsey was annoyed because she was not offended. He
looked at her, and said:
"A species of elephant."
"How impolite!" shouted Lydia compassionately.
"Ugh! Yes, Yevsey. That's impolite, brother. Kapitolina Nikolayevna is
an excellent girl. All connoisseurs value her."
"To me it's all the same," said Yevsey. "I want beer."
"Hey, there, beer!" shouted Zarubin. "Kapa dear, be so kind as to see we
get beer."
The stout girl turned, and left scraping her feet. Zarubin bending over
to Yevsey began insinuatingly and didactically:
"You see, Yevsey, of course this is an establishment of such a kind, and
so on, but still the girls are human beings like you and me. Why should
you insult them uselessly? Ugh! They're not all here of their own
accord."
"Stop!" said Klimkov.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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