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“Chere amie . . .” Stepan Trofimovitch ventured again.
“AchStepan Trofimovitchit's bewildering enough without you. You
might at least spare me. . . . Please ring that bell therenear youto the
maid's room.”
A silence followed. Her eyes strayed irritably and suspiciously over all our
faces. Agashaher favourite maidcame in.
“Bring me my check shawlthe one I bought in Geneva. What's Darya
Pavlovna doing?”
“She's not very wellmadam.”
“Go and ask her to come here. Say that I want her particularlyeven if
she's not well.”
At that instant there was againas beforean unusual noise of steps and
voices in the next roomand suddenly Praskovya Ivanovnapanting and
“distracted” appeared in the doorway. She was leaning on the arm of
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“Are you threatening meyou fool!”
Varvara Petrovna looked at her from under her browshalf rose to meet
herand scarcely concealing her vexation brought out:

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