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Chapter 11
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Chapter 11 Termosesov went to the post office first and mailed his letter there, and then he immediately went to see the postmaster’s wife. They met like old friends; he kissed her hand and she planted a big noisy kiss on top of his head and thanked him for the honor of his visit. “Good heavens! I’m the one who must thank you,” Termosesov replied, “since I’m dying of boredom. I didn’t sleep a wink all night for fear of where I was and who I was with.” “Yes, that Darya Nikolaevna is so inconsiderate, that is, not inconsiderate , but not a very good hostess.” “Yes, so it seems.” “Why, of course—she’s always got her nose in a book!” “You don’t say! What nonsense! Here you need to look around, not read. You know, when I got a look at all your townsfolk and listened to them last night … why, I was simply aghast.” “And I was saying to my daughters last night, ‘Our out-of-town visitor must have had a good time.’” “No, don’t worry on that score. I didn’t take this job for the money, you see, but to get to know the country.” “Oh, then you’ll find oodles of material for observation right here!” “For observation—precisely! Here, by the way, are the photos you gave me permission to bring. If you’ll allow me, I’ll hang them up.” The postmaster’s wife did not know how to thank him enough. “This will be a task that I’ll undertake with pleasure as long as I can see your lovely daughters.… I will see them, I hope?” The postmaster’s wife replied that they were not properly dressed yet because they were doing housework, but that they would come out nonetheless. “Oh, please, I beg of you,” Termosesov implored, and when his flattered hostess left the room, he began to hang the photographs on the wall with the nails he had brought along in his pocket. The girls spent nearly an hour getting ready, and during all that time the postmaster’s wife did not make an appearance either. “A good sign, a good sign!” Termosesov thought. “She’s probably engrossed in reading my literary creation.” But then the girls appeared, led by their mother. Ishmael Petrovich cast a quick, penetrating glance at their mother. She was beaming, emitting rays of ecstasy. CHAPTER 11 225 “Yes! She’s taken the bait!” Termosesov thought, winking to himself , and became ten times more gracious and charming. But to make certain that the postmaster’s wife had “taken the bait,” he began a conversation about literature and about the journal of notes and impressions he kept during his travels. “Portraits! For goodness’ sake, more portraits! More sketches from real life!” the postmaster’s wife pleaded. “Yes, I’ve already described how all the local society strikes me, and—do forgive me—I mentioned you and your daughters.… Just briefly, you know, in passing… Now if only I could get back the letter I just mailed—” “Heavens no! Whatever for?!” the postmaster’s wife replied, blushing. “Yes! She’s taken the bait, the old crook!” Termosesov reassured himself and insisted upon reading to the ladies what he had written about them. For a long time all that could be heard in the drawing room was, “No, why read it? We believe you anyway!” and “No, madam, why not read it?… For goodness’ sake, don’t take my word for it—don’t trust me!” Termosesov’s arguments proved too tempting for the girls’ curiosity; first one, then the other wanted to run to their father in the post office to retrieve the interesting letter written by the visitor from out of town. No matter how desperately the postmaster’s wife tried to stop them with words and signals, they still failed to understand and were dying to fetch it, whereas Termosesov understood everything perfectly; the letter was in his hostess’s hands, and now all he had to do was take it from her hands and by so doing he would have her in the palm of his own hand. Without a moment’s hesitation, Termosesov sprang to his feet and, despite all her efforts to restrain him and call him back, he obligingly rushed into the post office, shouting that he could no longer deny himself the pleasure of presenting the ladies with the vignette that expressed his...