"The Barber of Siberia" Screenplay
Text / [Russia] Ru Ibrahimbekov, N. Mikhalkov
Translated by Hu Rong
Summer of 1905. A military academy in the United States of America.
A row of military academy students walked to the cafeteria next to the playground wearing masks after fencing practice in groups of four.
A military postman whistled past the row of students sitting at the long table.
Soldier: Is there any mail from the second row?
Military Mail: Only one letter.
He took out a thick letter and handed it to the sergeant.
The sergeant glanced at the envelope and smiled.
Soldier: Someone has already written to you, these premature babies! ...
He put the lacquered letter on the smooth table. The letter slid between the plates and was blocked by the salt shaker again. A student, still wearing a mask, moved the envelope to him. The address was neatly written in delicate handwriting on the envelope, and a pink stamp with Mozart's face was attached.
Along with the contents of the letter, Mozart's music played.
JEAN'S VOICE: Dear child...this is my first letter to you, I hope it gets to you in time...Andrew, my dear! You have entered a new and challenging period in your life where the qualities of prudence and poise are most needed. I beg you: be restrained, do absolutely everything that is asked of you, don't be reckless, don't be stubborn...
On the screen, the buildings of the military academy, the training ground, and the equipment for training are superimposed. The Stars and Stripes flew over the military academy building.
The opening credits begin.
Jane's voice: ...now, you're so far away from me, you can't impatiently wave your hand to stop me when I try to explain something to you. I want to tell you a story. You never heard me finish this story, but it might be useful now! This is the experience of a very close girlfriend of mine who, like me, is also called Jane. This was over 20 years ago, before you came into the world. …Her father was an Italian inventor who became a U.S. citizen. Fate brought him to Russia a few years ago. Jane is a young and beautiful girl who was recently widowed. She sat in the "Berlin-St. Petersburg" international train box, worried that her long-lost father might not recognize her.
Winter of 1885. The international train is running on the snow-covered Russian ground. In the last box of a carriage, a young lady leaned against the soft seat. She has a chiseled face. The chestnut hair is combed into a very simple hairstyle, and a pair of green eyes are lively and bright. On the sofa lay her luggage, two plus-over boxes and a tweed bedding bag. The lady is reading a book.
A station on the outskirts of St. Petersburg. There was snow all around. The five non-commissioned officers rushed onto the international train despite the conductor's obstruction. In order to avoid the conductor's tracking, the non-commissioned officers inadvertently broke into Jane's box. They were: Poriyevsky the handsome man, Nazarov the fat man, Alibekov the indomitable man with gleaming white teeth, Buturin the slow man and Andrei Tolstoy.
POLYEVSKIES (quietly): Excuse me, ma'am, we were sent, guards...
Jane looked up and looked at the non-commissioned officers in amazement.
Jane (speaking English): Who are you? What do you want to do?
The non-commissioned officers exchanged glances and all turned to Tolstoy. Porievsky whispered something in his ear.
Tolstoy (translated into English): We are the guards. Madam, we are the guards. We are sent. Here is a manic patient. With a big blue beard, he said he was German and his accomplice was a black man.
Alibekov (in poor English, hoarse voice): 10 people have suffered, miss...
Buturin: It's all singing!
Tolstoy (speaking English): All singers...
Jane: Singer?
Tolstoy: Yes. Can you understand?
Jane: Yes.
Suddenly, she sang aloud an aria from Bellini's "Norma." The giggling non-commissioned officers suddenly became serious. Porievsky exchanged glances with his companions.
Poriyevsky: Do we still not understand? (to Tolstoy) Don't translate.
The non-commissioned officers turned to the door in unison as if receiving orders. One followed one out of the box. Porievsky looked back at Tolstoy by the door.
Porievsky: Tolstoy! Stay on guard!
The box door closed before Tolstoy's nose. Jane continues to sing.
... The non-commissioned officers in the corridor burst into laughter.
Jane continued to sing. Tolstoy turned in vain the doorknob, which was fastened from the outside. Jane stopped singing. Tolstoy felt the gaze behind him and turned around. Jane saw a bagel in Tolstoy's hand.
JEAN (interestedly): What is this?
Tolstoy did not immediately understand that the foreign lady was interested in bagels.
Tolstoy (in English): Oh, this? It's a bagel!
He said the words "bagels" in Russian, of course.
Jane (intrigued): Bagels? Is it okay to eat?
Tolstoy (understood): Yes. Would you like to try it?
Jen: Thank you.
Jane took the bagel from him and ate it with great taste. She changed her position and crossed her feet in pearl-encrusted suede shoes.
Jane: Please take a seat.
Tolstoy: Thank you. It's okay, I don't want to embarrass you.
JEAN (smiling): Is it a little late for you to say that? please sit down...
Tolstoy sat obediently on the edge of the sofa and began to turn his scarf hat. Jane looked at the sergeant in front of her while eating the bagel.
Jen: Delicious! ... Judging from this majestic appearance - you are a soldier?
Tolstoy: The future. I study in a non-commissioned officer school. Please let me introduce myself! (He rises, heavy Bedan in hand) Andrei Tolstoy!
JEAN (smiles and turns the book cover to Andre, staring at him suspiciously): What? !
Tolstoy (almost a statement): No, I have nothing to do with it... Dmitry Andreevich Tolstoy from the Ministry of Internal Affairs is not my relative either... I'm another family name Tolstoy's.
Jane: Have you seen "Anna Karenina"?
Tolstoy: No, I've heard of it, but I haven't had time...
JEAN (pause): Are you comfortable?
Tolstoy (weirdly): Very comfortable...
Suddenly, he seemed to feel something and stood up. See yourself sitting on a silver antique fan. He broke the fan bone.
Tolstoy: I didn't see it. I'm going to fix...
Jane: Don't worry. It's my own fault. You can take off your military uniform, it's hot here...
Tolstoy (wiping sweat from brow): It's okay. Coming soon. We came back from the winter shooting range.
Jen (smiling): Shooting maniacs?
Tolstoy (sorry): Excuse me, it was a very unsuccessful joke.
Jane: Why are your friends so scared when I sing? You don't appreciate Italian opera?
Tolstoy: On the contrary, there is an opera troupe in the school, and we sing in our own troupe...
Jane: You also sing?
Tolstoy: Yes.
Jane (intrigued): What do you sing?
Tolstoy: We are currently rehearsing The Marriage of Figaro.
Jane: So which part do you sing?
Tolstoy (not without pride): Figaro!
Jane: I can't even imagine that there are people in Russia who know Mozart. Simply unbelievable.
Tolstoy (extremely surprised): Why?
JEAN (embarrassed): Well, I mean, in the military. I have a request for you: please sing a paragraph.
... In the spacious aisle of the carriage, several non-commissioned officers continued to play. Nazarov chews a bagel, Alibekov smokes.
Buturin (gasps with laughter): So he raised his Beedan to her and claimed...
Nazarov (to imitate someone): I am Bluebeard! ...
Buturin: The lady resists, but Tolstoy is hard-hearted...
Nazarov (dumbly) Gentlemen, how did she sing?
Poriyevsky: Because of the excitement, Nazarov.
Alibekov: I wish I could marry her...
Suddenly, everyone was silent, because a loud singing came from the depths of the box. This time it was a man's voice. The surprised non-commissioned officers heard Tolstoy's voice. With a sneer on the corner of Poriyevsky's mouth, he glanced at Alibekov.
Porievsky: It's late, duke...
Captain Fokkin suddenly came to the first- and second-class mixed car. He quickly walked to the aisle of the carriage where the rowdy sergeants were. Porievsky was the first to spot him, whistling like bullets flying by, and then Buturin learned to make a roar of guns.
Porievsky: Hit!
The sergeants stood up together. Alibekov shoved the still burning cigarette into the pocket of his military uniform.
Fokin: Alibekov, there is smoke in your place, it will catch fire, and at the same time it will set the carriage on fire. Who still smokes? Shameful, gentlemen. Armed with a weapon and wearing a military uniform, he chewed a bagel like a middle school student! Each person was locked up for two days and nights. Alibekov added another day and night for smoking. Go back to your car!
The non-commissioned officers and students started to leave with a banging sound of their leather boots.
Fukukin: Stop! One more missing! What about Tolstoy?
Buturin: In Anna Karenina.
Fukukin: Buturlin, add a day's shift in advance.
Buturin: Because of what?
Fukukin: Because of Anna Karenina! Where is Tolstoy?
Alibekov (muttering softly under the tip of his nose): At Yasnaya Polyana estate...
Jane sat by the window eating a bagel. Tolstoy, who had finished singing, stood by the door.
Jane: You sing really well. Please sit down...why are you standing?
Tolstoy (gasps): Thank you (sitting embarrassedly on the edge of the sofa).
Jane: Would you like to drink?
Tolstoy hesitated, but immediately made up his mind—
Tolstoy: Wine? ...generally ... happy to (open the bottle of champagne on the small table)!
Jane: Please tell me, what is a "Prince"? Is this a job?
Tolstoy was not very good at opening wine bottles.
Tolstoy: These are the Tsar's family...the Tsar's children and brothers, his sons-in-law, uncles and sons...
Jane: Are there many of them?
Tolstoy: There are ten, maybe more. Prince Alexey Alexanderlovich, the inspector of our military academy, is the younger brother of His Majesty the Tsar.
The cork finally flew out of the bottle. The bubbly wine flowed out. Tolstoy hurriedly poured wine into the goblet.
Tolstoy: I'm sorry...
Jane (confused): Maybe, you can't drink? ...
Tolstoy: Why? Our school is like this...we all drink there! Do you know how Russian hussars drink?
Jane: I don't know...
Tolstoy put the goblet in the crook of his arm, straightened his neck, and slowly bent his arm to bring the glass to his lips.
Tolstoy: It's called a "sixth elbow." For your health, ma'am.
The edge of the goblet finally touched the sergeant's lips that were white with excitement. He raised his head and drank the contents of the glass in one gulp. Jane smiled and applauded his hussar game and took a sip of wine. Tolstoy sat down. He quickly got drunk. To hide his drunkenness, he began to speak quickly, but his words became more and more incoherent.
Tolstoy: Did you know, ma'am, what's left after you've eaten your bagel? A void!
He laughed and drew a hole in the middle of the doughnut in the air.
Tolstoy: This is a joke... can I ask you for a cigarette?
Jane: Please! This is Russian, bought in Warsaw. It's called "Basitowski" (Note 1) or something.
Tolstoy took one of the packs of cigarettes on the small table and handed the case to Jane, all the while talking nonstop.
Tolstoy: We all joke around there. Maybe I'll be kicked out soon. Just because of a non-staff associate professor. Generally speaking, there is no such thing anywhere in the world. He made it up himself! He said, "I'm writing a military geography textbook?" He was nicknamed "Good Mom." He called everyone "Good mother! Good mother!" Beast! Only God understands this level 12 military geography... He said he knew level 11 himself. And we're only level 4, level 5, or just the hole in the bagel, the big zero (lol lol). Otherwise, I'll go by myself, but my mother is pitiful. Would you like to see it? Just sent it to me yesterday. She is such a beautiful, real actress! ...
Tolstoy fumbled in his pockets and took out a photo and handed it to Jane. We see in the photo a graceful lady with a dashing splendid hairstyle adorned with expensive headdresses. And standing beside her was Jane's box neighbor, Tolstoy, a non-commissioned officer. In the photo he is wearing a summer military uniform.
He handed Jane the lighted match, and he took a puff himself, puffing out the smoke dashingly. Jane inadvertently tucked the photo into the book. At this moment, the door of the box opened, and Captain Fujin appeared at the door. The non-commissioned officers peered into the box behind him. Half-awake and half-drunk Tolstoy was smoking a cigarette. He looks almost shocking. A non-commissioned officer let out a "pop!" sound.
Fukukin: Excuse me, ma'am...
He glanced at Jane quickly, and his heavy gaze fell on the non-commissioned officer.
Fokine: Sergeant Tolstoy! ... Petersburg is 5 minutes away...
Tolstoy (interrupting): I know! Come and visit us, Mr. Lieutenant.
Fujin took another look at Jane, and suddenly he yelled loudly, the sound of which rattled the goblet on the table.
Fukukin: Stand up! Stand and speak to superiors and company leaders!
Tolstoy tried to get up, but maybe he changed his mind, or he couldn't...
Tolstoy (friendly) Why are you shouting in front of the lady, Mr. Captain. Want to drink? Can I give him a drink?
He was asking Jane, but the captain spoke up.
Fukukin (speaking English): Excuse me, ma'am, it's so generous. (turning around, giving orders to the non-commissioned officers standing behind him) Take him to our carriage (saluting Jen and leaving the box).
Tolstoy stood up, and even saluted, leaning on his Beddan rifle.
Tolstoy: Goodbye, kind lady, nice to meet you...
Jane: Goodbye, Mr. Tolstoy. What is the name of your military academy?
Tolstoy: Alexieevsky (two steps, out of the box door) …
Nazarov closed the door behind him, and Tolstoy had been caught...in the arms of his companions.
Platform of St. Petersburg railway station. Winter of 1885.
Jane appeared at the door of a carriage with a stiff smile on her face, looking for her father in the crowd.
Veteran Officer: Look, there she is! There she is! Where are you looking? there!
He ran to Jane. Jane's bewildered gaze shifted from the gentleman's fur coat to his hat.
ROBERT (shoving the veteran, almost pushing him aside): Jane! little daughter!
JEAN (happily): Dad! ...
She was carried down the steps by her father's hands.
Robert: Jane, dear...
She shyly kissed her father back.
Veterans: How awesome! Awesome! ...how many years have you not seen each other?
JEAN (breaking out of her father's arms): 6 years, no... 7 years! ...
The excited father nodded frequently.
Jane: Dad, you're getting older...
ROBERT (embarrassed) Me? !
JEAN (changing the subject, realizing that this is inappropriate): My stuff is in the box...
Veteran (prepared): Oh, ma'am, please don't worry... Porter!
The veteran vanished into the carriage along with a able-bodied porter. A brown face flashed at the door of the carriage. This is a follower of the Abyssinian prince. Now only the father and daughter are left.
Jane: Hello, Dad, how's it going?
ROBERT (hurriedly): No! I had hoped that the prince would come to greet the Abyssinian prince. That could be... but he didn't come.
Jane: Is it? ...then who is there to meet? ...he's so young (remembers something, smiles)...people call him Bluebeard.
ROBERT (without listening to her): The loan repayment date has passed.
Jane: What, it's over?
ROBERT (desperately): The day before yesterday. You know, I've written to Dick...
Jane: I know. Listen to me, Dad! What horrible names of Russians: Ivan Khristovlovich...Nikola Arshipovich...Pyotr Savilevich...
Robert: They've been sitting at my house for two days.
Jen: Yeah...what a pleasure my trip was...
The father and daughter were walking on the platform, and the open station square could already be seen not far away. The veterans followed them a few steps later. Two porters followed him with Jane's luggage. Jane kept chattering, and her father smiled blankly.
JEAN (looking back at the veteran): Listen to me, how are you doing? Why are you behind?
The veterans hurried a few steps. He was glad they finally noticed him.
Jane: Who are you? Dad's assistant?
Kopunov (like a young man, proudly): Colleague on behalf of the Royal Commission for Advanced Engineering and Technology Inventions.
ROBERT (sadly): Past.
Kopunov (doesn't hear him): Pavel Kopunov, a fifth-class civil servant, ma'am.
Robert: Retired. He was the one who lured me here four years ago. And now...
Jane sits with her father and Kopunov on a sleigh covered in wolf skins. The sled started slowly.
Kopunov (significantly): Emotional contagion theory! ...
Jane: I don't understand. Please keep it simple.
Kopunov: Excuse me! But how easy? In January 1871 I persuaded your father to come to us to build machines. We met at the Inventor's Achievement Exhibition in Vienna. He came in in February, submitted the application, and got the loan. However, terrorists killed Alexander II on the Garden Ring Road on March 1, may he go to heaven...
Kopunov (continues): ... a month later, our new emperor, Alexander III, God bless him with health and happiness (he draws a cross again) ... began to put people who had held positions in his father's time Drive away... I will completely retire in June, and all my positions will be gone.
The sleds passed in front of the ranks of the sergeants in the square. General Radloff is reviewing the team. The sergeants saluted him in unison. Then the general walked between the lines and said something to the sergeants.
Kopunov (looking thoughtfully at the cadets): Our career as an officer is indeed fascinating! Where were you pushed to the top, where, and who swatted you to death like a fly - no one knows! ...Look at me, nobleman, engineer, 5th grade civil servant, who studied in London and is now your father's eater and drinker. And this turkey, this monument, which holds in his head not brains, but a pood of white water—is there commanding the cadets, the brilliance of our nation. I heard that he also exerted influence on the prince and was working as a court official! ...
Jane: What is a court official?
Kopunov (smiling): My child, this is a palace position, by the emperor's side, may God bless him with health and happiness (he draws a cross). This word sounds convoluted, like a foreign word, like a curse word... but it's not light. Don't you have it? Oh yes, you are a republic...
JEAN (suddenly): Excuse me, why do you say the general is bald? I think it's the exact opposite...
Kopunov (laughs): Ha-ha! ...he takes up a lot of other people's seats, and even his hair belongs to others. All he has is stupidity!
The sergeants stood up straight. General Radlov passed by the queue. The sleigh runs aside. Kopunov was still talking, but Jane was looking intently over the line. She was paying attention to the non-commissioned officers, or the great general.
Radloff (arrogantly): Mozart to Mozart, sergeants and gentlemen, I like opera too! But, you know, you have to think about your career too! ...
The eyes of the general met those of the sergeant Porievsky. The general's eyes softened, and he nodded almost imperceptibly to the sergeant. Poriyevsky gave him an elusive smile. Captain Fokin listened respectfully to the general's words, and at the same time looked at Tolstoy with alarm. Tolstoy, who was standing in the middle of the second row, was pinched from both sides by the shoulders of Nazarov and Alibekov. Tolstoy shook his head slightly, as if trying to find balance, and his surprised eyes lingered on the general's large beautiful face.
Radloff (continuing): ... His Excellency Prince Alexey Alexanderlovich can shoot ten kopecks of silver through a bullet! what about you? ! You, non-commissioned officers and gentlemen, I'm sorry, you can't even find the target! It's shameful! ...in the end, it's not an act of patriotism! ...every bullet that slips past the target hits the back of the motherland! Remember this! Captain, take the company home!
Fukukin: Yes, my lord! Turn left all the way! Walk along!
The clear footsteps of the company sounded on the firmed snow.
Fukukin: Sing in unison!
Suddenly an unexpected thing happened. In the middle of the line, above the company that had not had time to sing, Tolstoy's bold baritone sounded. He sang Figaro's aria aloud. The general looked around in surprise. The baritone is overwhelmed by a vigorous company chorus. Nazarov, Buturin, Alibekov, and Poriyevsky sang aloud military songs with wide eyes, trying their best to suppress the voices of their companions. The company went away. The general didn't finally understand what was going on.
The singing of the snow-covered Petersburg and the non-commissioned officers gradually evolved into the singing of the American military cadets 20 years later. On the training ground, the company marched in neat steps, while the sergeant walked aside. Three students in fencing masks walked in the line.
Soldier: All company, run and walk!
The students ran and continued to sing.
Soldier: Stand firm! One, two! turn right! Check it out! Take a break! You, you and you! (sign with finger), take two steps forward!
Students with face masks came out of the line.
Soldier: Let's sing together, little elephants! ...
The sergeant sang a song. The students sang along to him, and through the masks they made muffled noises. The sergeant covered his ears with his hands and sang louder, and the students echoed him.
Soldier: Little elephants, turn left! Go for a run! The rest, disband!
The sergeant stood in the middle of the training ground. Three students in face masks sang and ran on the training ground. The sergeant followed them around, like a circus trainer. The soldier sings the beginning of a stanza and the students sing the end of the stanza.
Sergeant (suddenly, in the middle of a stanza): I hooked up this Mozart!
The students ran silently. The sergeant continued to sing, with a smile on his face. The students also smiled back at him. The sun scorched relentlessly. The uniforms of the cadets were soaked with sweat. The singing on the training ground gradually faded into the background. We continue to listen to the voice in the letter.
Jane's Voice: So, after experiencing all kinds of travel and life experiences, Jane came to Russia. And about Russia, she doesn't know anything but the Tsar, caviar, vodka, stupid and backward people and the vast Siberia.
Winter of 1885.
On Nevsky Prospekt, a sleigh covered in wolf's skins galloped past the colorful signboards and gleaming shop windows on both sides of the road. Jane looked around, occasionally asking her father and Kopunov something.
We continue to hear the voices in that letter.
JEAN'S VOICE: ...As I've told you, my son, Jane's father's career is bad at this time. He's really a genius engineer-inventor, and he's invented some kind of weird machine that seems to cut through giant trees or something like that. At first everything was going well, things had started, but things changed drastically, the terrorist assassinated the Russian tsar, which interrupted the work, and then came to a complete standstill... At this moment, Jane came to Russia... …
The sleigh turned a corner on the Neva and headed for the snow-covered glacier. That's when gunshots sounded, followed by the rumble of bomb explosions, a moment of silence followed by moans and shouts, and then several more gunshots. Several figures ran past, and sirens and scolding roared in the air. The sleigh is parked by the road. Just on the bridge, a few knights with guns dressed as Cossacks galloped past them. There was another shot at the bridge, a Cossack rider fell, got up, and stooped to run. The horse twitched in the snow. Jane screamed. A policeman came running along the river bank.
Police: What's the matter? ... who am I talking to? Turn around! Go to the door!
In the panic, the driver was overwhelmed and dazed.
The ranks of the cadets also stopped on Nevsky Prospect. A Cossack captain came galloping on a sweaty horse.
Captain: Oh, sergeants! Very good! quick……
Fukukin: What happened?
Captain: Assassinate Governor Odessa...killed the horses, and the guards.
Fukukin: And what about him?
Captain: I don't know, Captain. Now is not the time to talk. Terrorists are hiding nearby? Have to search the yard...
The sergeants became serious. They were pale and focused. Captain Fokin issued the order, and the non-commissioned officers and students bent over in groups of three to spread out in groups, making the breech of the Biedan-style rifle "click". Tolstoy, slightly awake by the sudden incident, stumbling along the bank of the river with Poriyevsky and the nimble Alibekov. They ran into the front yard of a house...
At this moment, gunshots rang out. Bullets grazed a pile of bricks. Poriyevsky leaped forward, Alibekov flicked aside, and Tolstoy used a large iron barrel for cover.
POLYEVSKI (shouting): Stand here! Cover us... I'm at the corner's exit! Alibekov follow me! ...
The snow was slippery and they almost didn't slip. They crossed the aisle. A few more shots were fired not far away, and then there were shouts of scolding. Tolstoy, froze, sat down next to the cold iron bucket, panting heavily. His hands trembled slightly and his head was dizzy. Just at this moment, the back door of the yard creaked, and a man in a black coat and a wide-brimmed black hat slipped in from the door. Under the brim of the hat showed long, different shades of hair. Tolstoy's hands fumbled over the rifle's fore-stock and breech block, opened the safety valve gently, rolled up into a ball, and hid behind a large iron barrel. The man in the cap was crawling quietly against the wall to the front yard, not realizing that he was getting closer and closer to Tolstoy. Tolstoy stood up silently with his face against the butt of the gun. A cap, a face, a pale yellow untrimmed beard appeared in the crosshairs. Tolstoy opened his squinted eyes, then squinted again. The man approached. He stopped abruptly and turned to Tolstoy. Their eyes met. The man nervously wanted to get something out of his jacket pocket, but something seemed to be preventing him from doing so. The sight of Tolstoy's rifle was aimed at the man.
The terrorist stopped fighting and stretched out his hands to Tolstoy, a pitiful smile on his pale lips. He muttered softly: "Don't, don't do this... Please don't... I can't do this anymore, don't do this..."
He muttered so eagerly, still with his hands outstretched, and retreated into the back of the yard, slowly disappearing behind a door.
Tolstoy put down his Beddan and stood still, his wet eyelashes flashing, trying to understand what had just happened. There was the sound of hooves, followed by a few shots, and someone shouted.
A voice: Look! ...they are all there! All caught...
From the hole in the wall in the front yard, several people driven by the Cossacks could be seen walking by the shore. Their hands were raised above their heads. A man with a box can also be seen screaming in the front yard of another house. He was escorted by two military police.
Mr. Box Holder: Let go of me! what are you doing? ... This head is four thousand years old. It's called a mummy, a mummy! ...
The gendarmerie twisted his hands behind his back and took him away.
Gendarmerie: What's this called, you'll talk about it later when you get there. In the capital of the empire, put human heads in boxes! ...you can't figure it out, bad guy! ...
Poriyevsky returned, and Alibekov, who was following him, had eyes sparkling with excitement.
Alibekov: See, gentlemen? ! All caught!
Porievsky glanced at Tolstoy.
Poriyevsky: What's the matter with you?
Tolstoy: Nothing, just frozen...
Several cars turned out of that front yard and continued on their way. Jane looked around, from the Cossacks gathered on the pavement to the police and others, to an overturned wagon and a horse lying on the ground. She shook her head.
Jane: You are so happy here...
On the other street, the corps of non-commissioned officers was evacuating.
The underground garage of engineer Storallo's house.
The dim light of Petersburg shone feebly through the narrow wooden lattice windows, dimly reflecting the huge, peculiar and mysterious metal device in the garage. This is an automatic fast feller. Scattered around it were parts, tools, pulleys and gears on cables that soared to the ceiling. Maps, drawings, and blackboards covered with drawings hung on the walls; on the wall between the two windows was a huge map of Siberia. Jane looked at the icy giant monster with interest. Father's excited voice hummed through the cold vault.
Robert: Why was I born? ! Why study? ! Why take my head full of genius ideas to America? Why stay here? !
Jane: It's thought...
Robert: What?
Jane: You're wrong: "genius minds". Must be a genius idea.
Robert: What's the difference?
He stood in front of the map of Siberia and tapped it with his palm.
ROBERT: Look here...here...and here—hundreds of thousands of cubic meters of wood! Understand?
Jane: Well, so this... what can this monster do?
She tapped the side of the dull iron guy with her fingers.
ROBERT (extremely surprised): What? ! You still don't understand? ! My machine can do the work of 500 people a month for a month! This is a knife, but not a simple knife. This machine can walk like a lumberjack...
In the dark, cold, echoing room, the engineer waved his hands passionately, showing Jane how his machine worked. When he didn't have enough hands and feet to perform another function of the machine, Kopunov, a veteran, came to help him and made the action of falling a tree. The engineer didn't notice a few people standing by the door--they were fighting the final battle over the loan that came due.
Catching Jane's gaze, his father turned to the garage door, and finally saw the lenders.
Robert: Oh! ! ! ……Appeared! Now...instantly...I'm all set.
The engineer rushed towards the lenders, pulling them deep into the room, where the wires and ropes hung.
Robert: Come here, come here, gentlemen! you too! Come on everyone! Come closer...so you can see! I will keep you all satisfied!
He took an old chair to the rope hanging from the ceiling, climbed on it, and, with trembling hands, put the noose he had prepared over his head.
Lender (in unison): What is this? Gentlemen! What is he doing? ...
Suddenly, the legs of the chair the engineer was stepping on snapped together, and the engineer hung from the noose. This was unexpected to everyone (including himself). Fortunately, the rope was so long that the engineer's feet slammed to the ground, and he let out a tragic hiss as he was wearing the noose.
ROBERT (shouting): Poor people! ...I made a wonderful machine with your meager money! It's a miracle! Oh, God! It seems to be coming back to life! And you, you hypocrites and criminals, have no patience! You guys are tired of waiting! now! immediately! You grab my throat and strangle me! Strangle it! ...
The engineer's neck, like a dog collar on a leash, was pulled tighter and tighter by the rope.
Jane: Dad! ...how can you do this! I beg you, be quiet! ...
Robert's head rested on his daughter's shoulder. His hoarse cry turned into a suppressed cry. Jane motioned the lenders to leave with her father's imperceptible gesture. They tiptoed back and disappeared behind the door.
ROBERT (tears): They made their own budget and reviewed it for a whole year. During this period, prices doubled. They redo the budget, re-examine it, another year, and prices go up again... It's been four years. I don't understand anything: can this work, they owe themselves! Everything is messed up! Who are these people! No one says "no", but no one decides! If you don't drink, you don't work! I can't do it if I don't drink it... I will drink with them, so that the work can continue! Why haven't I become an alcoholic! ...
Kopunov walked up to the engineer and carefully untwisted the rope and removed the noose. Robert sobbed, went to the table, and poured wine into his glass.
Kopunov (to Jen) I've told your dad many times, and he never listens. He always wanted, as in Europe or as in yours, in the United States, that everything would go right through the door. But here I go through the front door because I'm being rejected...
Kopunov rolled up the rope and hung it on a nail.
Kopunov: It would be nice if it could be handed to the Prince and let him approve the new budget.
Jane sat in her chair, thinking intently.
Jane: So, the head of that military academy... is really wearing a wig? ...
Kopunov and Robert glanced at each other.
The most important dance of the year is being prepared at the Yelizavitinsky Academy. In the huge columned hall, the floor cleaner was mopping the floor hard. A young man in a grey Russian shirt turned awkwardly, slipped to the floor, and tumbled a few times...
The living room of engineer Robert's house. Jane was sitting at the table with Kopunov, the veteran. They are having breakfast. A small, military-looking coffee pot boiled. The coffee flows down the small tube into a small cup. Kopunov watched the process with a little sarcasm.
Kopunov: Jane, my dear, I am a man of the rules: in Russia morning coffee started with Peter the Great... In ancient times the day of the educated man started with vodka...
He watched how the coffee flowed into the cup.
Jane: Come on, come on, Kopunov, you're dealing with civilized people.
Kopunov: Jane, you can only eat and wear what is native to where you live.
JEAN (seriously): Yeah, I know: there's vodka here. Listen to me, is there a theater here?
Kopunov: What a strange question! Of course there is...
Jane: No...I'm talking about actors - poor people, just trying to make money? ...
Kopunov: Jane, in Russia, all actors are poor, but all want to make money! ...
Jane: So do you know them?
Kopunov: Yeah...what do you want to do?
Jane (thoughtfully): Could you please introduce me? ...
The punished sergeants stood in their respective positions. Nazarov looked out the window. Under the window came the bugle sound of Uncle Saveriitch, the orderly on duty in the corridor. When Jane's figure appeared in the barbed-wire window, the sergeants formed in platoons in the yard. Nazarov leaned his entire body toward the window, then sat down for some reason, his lips whistling as missiles flew past.
Nazarov: "Crack," gentlemen!
Everyone: what? What happened? !
Nazarov: "Anna Karenina"!
Tolstoy: Lie!
Everyone rushed to the window. Under the surprised eyes of the neatly arranged non-commissioned officers, Jane and the officer on duty were saying something. The officer pointed to the building, pointing to the window of Radloff's office on the second floor. Jane nodded and walked towards the house. As she walked past the front of the queue, she nodded to the non-commissioned officers and even smiled, slightly raising her silk-gloved hand, and wiggling her fingers a few times. Not knowing what to do, the non-commissioned officers greeted her casually on their own accord.
Tolstoy: Our Lady! Why didn't I have time, fan... She came to get the fan, but I didn't have time...
Porievsky: What are you talking about, Tolstoy?
Saveriitch's bugle was heard again. The non-commissioned officers quickly took their places, continued to study German verbs, and glanced at Tolstoy, exchanging glances.
The red-faced, black mustache officer on duty with the shiny braided epaulettes on his new uniform accompanies Jane politely through the reception room to the door of the chief's office.
The spacious and tall office with 4 large windows has a portrait of Alexander III on the front wall, next to a smaller portrait of the prince. Between the windows were two old-fashioned writing desks, and a few high-backed chairs were placed against the wall. There was a desk in the middle of the room, behind which General Radlov sat.
He stretched out his belly and turned his pale, well-groomed face to the visiting lady.
General (bending slightly): Please...what can I do for you, dear lady? ...please take a seat...
The general pointed to a large chair and gently touched his carefully groomed forehead with his hand. Jane took a white rectangular envelope from her purse and handed it to the general.
Jane: Your cadet forgot this in the train...
Hearing her speaking English, the general touched his forehead suspiciously. He opened the envelope and pulled a passport photo from it.
General: Yes, this is our non-commissioned officer... (he selects English words slowly, word by word, and then speaks French proficiently): Excuse me, can you speak French?
Jane: Oh, no! ...but I can speak Hindi...and Italian...
The general understood only Italian, sang the first few sentences of the Italian aria, laughed, and asked Jane to sit down again. Jane accepted the invitation after expressing her thanks. The general himself sat down.
Jane: We met in the box by chance. If I remember correctly, his last name is the same as the famous writer - Tolstoy...
General: Yes, yes...of course. Tolstoy... Senior, Second Company. (Very fond of Jane, he stands up again) Allow me to introduce, ma'am... Baron von Radloff, Lieutenant General, Headmaster of the Military Academy Alexieevsky, Servant of His Majesty the Emperor's Court , friend of the chairman of the Royal Commission for Advanced Engineering and Technology Inventions (these words are all in English, with occasional pauses for word selection)...
Jane (nodding slightly): Jane Karagan, née Storallo...
GENERAL (frows his brows again with concern, cuts his forehead, in English): Storallo? ...Storallo...well...I think...
Jane: Yes, General, you know the surname...
General: Is he your husband, Storallo?
Jane: It's my father. I am a widow. my husband died...
General: Dead? On the battlefield (sitting down with concern, touching his forehead again)?
Jane: No. He was drowning. On the Nile... yes, this is in Africa.
General: In the Nile?
Jane looked into the general's eyes with interest. He was excitedly looking for the English word he needed.
Radloff: Understood. Excuse me, I don't know. Regarding your father, I would love to...
JEAN (lightly): Oh, we're not going to talk about that. He was crazy for his machine.
Radloff: Yes - yes! ...that is, excuse me, later (becoming solemn)...he decides, (points to the Prince's portrait) The Prince is our benefactor.
JEAN (studying the general's face with interest): Your face is very unusual.
Radloff: Really? ! Do you think so?
Jen: You are like a person (biting his lower lip, as if searching for that person in his memory)...like Alexander!
Radloff: Like the Emperor (glances at the second portrait)?
Jane: No! ...like Markonsky.
Such compliments were not what Radloff had expected. He glanced at his own reflection on the bookcase glass and smiled embarrassedly.
Radloff: Maybe you would like to visit our school?
Jane: I would love to! I am a patriot, therefore I love soldiers!
The ballroom of the non-commissioned officer school.
On the mirror-polished parquet floor were two huge portraits of emperors: Alexander I and Alexander III.
Mr. Greer, a small, light-moving man, was taking a dance lesson. He explained passionately, his demonstration movements seeming to be suspended.
The gloomy Nazarov walked towards Bukin, who was sitting there with his hands stretched out, with ridiculous dance steps, stopped in front of him, turned half a circle on tiptoe, grabbed his hand, and took advantage of Greer. When he didn't pay attention, he was ready to bite Bujin's hand. Bukin yanked his hands violently, and the line of people turned back and forth with laughter.
Greer: Virgin Mary! What a dance move! Shoulders shrugged, hips like a purchased horse! Yes, all the female students of Yelizawijinsky Academy will be scared away by this kind of invitation!
Everyone laughed. Nazarov returned to the queue.
Greer: Sergeant Tolstoy! please! ...
Tolstoy slides lightly on the waxed floor.
Greer: Well, good! Relax your hands, don't be tense, and lower your arms slightly bent. Well, Tolstoy! that's all! Now, at the same time, remember, at the same time, this is the beauty secret of bowing! At the same time, slowly bend over and lower your head. Well, that's it, together, lightly, just a little faster, straighten up, raise your head, and take a step to the side! Very good, Mr. Sergeant!
The floor cleaners from the Yelizavitinsky Institute lined up to scrub the polished, waxed floors hard.
The non-commissioned officers lined up in pairs of male and female dance partners to practice mazurka in pairs.
Greer: Pay attention to the rhythm! Keep up with the rhythm!
Buturlin was paired with Porievsky.
BUTURIN (to the beat of the music) Slaves, shackled slaves, don't sing high notes! Why are you torturing us - we can't go to this dance anyway!
Poriyevsky: Stop it, sergeant. Your calculations are not correct... We are punished until noon the day after tomorrow, and the ball at the Yelizavitinsky Academy is at 7:00 pm!
Buturin: What if we were to be fined again?
Greer spun around on the waxed floor, following the rhythm, playing the torreya with his fingers loudly, and occasionally running to the piano, playing the rhythm of the music.
Just then, Radlove and Jane entered the hall. Greer shuddered violently, but the general motioned for him to continue teaching. Tolstoy was dancing with Nazarov, while Poriyevsky was paired with Alibekov. Jane looked at the dancing people with a surprised smile.
Nazarov (loudly): Tolstoy, I'm here for you! ...
Tolstoy flushed. Seeing Jane, his body swayed.
Poriyevsky: Look at "Bubba" (Note 2), look at "Bubba"!
The non-commissioned officers continued to dance, but their eyes lingered on Jane and the general, who was dignified and majestic beside her.
Greer: Rhythm! Rhythm! This is the great sixth sense! Rhythm imparts confidence and alertness to the body and brings clarity to the mind! ...
Jane smiled and surveyed the dancers on the field. She didn't understand what Greer was shouting, but she had the desire to dance with everyone.
Greer (hitting the beat with his finger): The whole world is built with rhythm! Be good at using rhythm! Now let's waltz! Form a big circle!
He happened to be standing beside Jane and Radloff. He bowed, and Jane took his bow as an invitation. She took a step forward, and then the elegant Greer reached out his hand and quickly led her into the dance. Strauss' waltz played. Jane turned around a few times and came to another male dance partner. She is now dancing with Andre. He was embarrassed and stammered.
Tolstoy: I beg your pardon...I haven't had time yet—we're punished...
Jane: What do you mean?
Tolstoy: Fix your fan... don't worry, I will...
JEAN (interrupting him with a laugh): I don't doubt it! You dance more than you drink...I'm worried...you forgot the picture. I brought it.
Tolstoy: I found it. thanks……
Radloff was a little overwhelmed by what was in front of him, and an adjutant came up to him with a thick book.
Adjutant: Your lord... Your lord...
Radloff (disgruntled) Who?
Adjutant: Makdonsky, my lord.
The adjutant quietly opened a page in the book and brought it to the general. On that page of the book is an ancient coin with an obscure profile portrait of an ancient Greek commander.
Radloff: Who is this?
he asked, his eyes fixed on Jane, who was waltzing with Porievsky.
Adjutant: Markdonsky! ...Sir, it's the person you asked! Alexander! ...
As a result, the profile of the ancient soldier appeared again in front of the general's eyes, and he tried to find the similarity with himself on it.
Yelizavitinsky Institute. Three rows of windows gleamed. The convoy entered the wide ancient gate.
The grand hall of the Yelizavitinsky Institute, famous for its symmetry of architectural lines. Thick damask curtains, marble columns, shiny parquet floors. From time to time came the majestic marches sung by the chorus. The guests crowded in the spacious promenade on both sides of the hall. Bejeweled ladies wore off-the-shoulder dresses, while men wore uniforms embroidered with gold thread and over-the-shoulder straps in red or sky blue. The officers wore silver sashes, while the college students wore green double-breasted gold-buttoned gowns. The girls in the academy always wore dark red bragi with bare chests, and they stood there in groups or alone. The guests exchanged glances in confusion - none of them danced. Among the distinguished guests, accompanied by the singing of the chorus, sat on a gilded velvet chair, the Countess K. Beside her were the high-spirited General Radloff and some other dignitaries.
Here came the sergeants in shiny military boots, ceremonial uniforms with shiny buttons, and snow-white gloves. They came from the freezing cold, their cheeks flushed from the cold, their necks stretched and they looked around.
Nazarov: Look, look, the old countess has grown a beard, like our purser.
Buturin: We didn't use him for rehearsals for nothing...
Everyone laughed.
Tolstoy: Why don't you dance?
Poriyevsky: It is said that I am sorry! ...without any conditions for dancing. The floor wax is new, slippery, and here...
A big steward ran past them panting, across the hall, towards the countess.
Nazarov: Oh, this is going to happen (blows a whistle like a bullet passing by)! ...
The chief steward staggered to and fro on the slippery parquet floor towards the countess. Breathing heavily, he finally stopped in front of the countess.
Countess: Why do you jump like a goat in front of your guests? What have you done here for me, damn it? The whole Petersburg scandal...
Chief Steward: I, my lord...
COUNTESS (dignifiedly): You built me a Yusupovsky skating rink, world-class liberal!
Chief Steward: My lord, this is French wax, new, from Paris.
Countess: Go to your Paris! What, we are French? Maybe they are crawling and jumping with both hands and feet, how do I know? And we have no dance party here is shameful!
Polonezes without dancers seem to be getting more and more melancholy. The countess turned to Radlov, who was standing not far away.
Countess: General, please do something to save it!
The general tidied up his loose and beautiful hair.
General: Countess, I would have broken my leg here for your sake.
He greeted a duty adjutant. The adjutant managed to maintain his balance and walked towards the general.
General: How is it?
Adjutant: Polonez is not allowed. very dangerous. Very slippery, my lord.
General: Really?
Adjutant: Like on ice, my lord, worse! Or, try a waltz?
General: What? !
Adjutant: That would be against the rules, my lord. Waltz number four on the classical ballroom dance repertoire...
Radloff (sternly): Classical ballroom dance schedules can be arranged, that's all!
Adjutant: Yes, my lord (he slides down the hall with his legs straight, striding across the hall)!
Jen, Robert and Kopunov were also among the guests. They are standing in the corridor on the right.
ROBERT (in English): ...Look, even French wax can handle it.
Jane: In what way?
Robert: It's easy! Everything is connected: machine logging, wood - resin, resin - rubber, rubber is non-slip. The French do wax and we do rubber boots! that's all! understand? !
JEAN (looking into the distance): The general was there...he saw us.
Robert: Where?
General Radloff spotted the guests in the crowd—Jen and her father and Kopunov. He smiled and bowed to them, and the three of them greeted him.
ROBERT (looking at the general) Is that true? It's unbelievable...
Jane: You have to be decent, or you might ruin everything!
Robert touched his pocket.
ROBERT (impatiently) Shall we go to him?
Jane: Stand quietly. He will come by himself.
Adjutant (gliding down the hall): Gentlemen! Ladies and gentlemen! Get ready to waltz! Male dance partners please invite their female partners! Arrange in pairs! Ladies and gentlemen!
He passed in front of the sergeant. They had spotted Jane and kept looking in her direction.
Adjutant (in a low voice): Non-commissioned officers, please maintain the glory and glory of the school! Help me - there's no one left!
Buturin: What's new, rolling in the halls with the ladies! ...
Nazarov: Look at our "Bubba!"
Radloff was already in front of Jane, smiling and saying something to her. Jane smiled. The general took Robert's hand and bowed to Kopunov. The general is already talking to Jane. Robert stood by reading a magazine. What is Jane talking about. Radloff wanted to see what he read with great interest.
Radloff (smiles leniently): Yeah, it was an idea...it's impossible, because it's never been...
Jen (participating in the conversation): Why is that? ! My uncle, my father's brother, had a lot of hair loss, and that sort of thing helped him. Do you remember, Dad, Uncle Stepano?
ROBERT (eyes widen): Yes, yes...he totally, that is right away...
Robert pointed to the floppy hair as he spoke, making some vague movements. Radloff listened to him, smiling uneasily, and seemed to have inadvertently brought the magazine from Robert. Some of the descriptions on the last page of the magazine read: "The best way to cure hair loss, the mystery and miracle of Indian medicine, 3 to 10 times to heal! Absolutely guaranteed cure. Great reviews in France and Germany ." Next, mark in small print the address that produced this "miracle".
Jane: But for you, my lord, it's too early to use something like this.
Radloff (mumbles): Yes... yes...
The adjutant slithered among the standing guests. There was a waltz from the band.
Adjutant: Please, ladies and gentlemen! 3 shots, gentlemen! Don't worry, it's a little slippery! ...
Several couples wanted to waltz, but they managed to get to the promenade where the floor wasn't slippery. The waltz sounded, but there were few dancers.
Poriyevsky: I'm so wrong, gentlemen, I'm so wrong! Napoleon must have come up with something...
Tolstoy (focused): Or Suvorov...
Jane tilted her head and smiled. Radloff gestured solemnly and said something. Sometimes her dazed eyes darted across the hall inadvertently. But the non-commissioned officers even thought she was looking for them. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and her smile was so charming. Tolstoy's eyes moved from Jane to the band. Suddenly, there was a high-pitched whistle like bullets flying by.
The sergeants all turned to him.
Tolstoy (suddenly): Yes! Got an idea, oh my!
The sergeants all looked at him.
Tolstoy: Sergeants, follow me!
Alibekov: Where to go?
Tolstoy: Rosin...
The sergeants understood immediately. They dodged carefully among the guests, ran to the loggia by the stairs, and rushed up three steps.
The waltz here is deafening. Looking from behind the musicians, the bows can be seen swinging in intoxication. In the empty corridor, there are piano cases on the floor.
One of them stood guard at the entrance, while the rest took the bow-coated rosin pieces out of the box. In an instant, on the narrow and dark stairs, the sergeants were already there, pushing and shoving the heels of leather boots with rosin, and someone's fingers were scratched on the silver heels in the haste.
Porievsky: Hi, Tolstoy, that's great! You can be Hannibal (Note 3)!
He jumped first and disappeared into the crowd, followed by Alibekov and Buturin, and Tolstoy and Nazarov after a while.
Nazarov: Paint me thicker, Tolstoy! I am heavy...
The call of the duty adjutant came from the hall. Porievsky was the first to step on the gleaming parquet. Two more followed, followed by Nazarov. Their gait is relaxed, confident and happy, and they stand firmly on their feet. All eyes were on them.
Tolstoy finally entered the hall, walking among the standing guests... and stopped.
Porievsky had almost crossed the hall. Like in class: knees slightly bent, dance steps straight to Jane, and stand two steps away from her. Tolstoy saw: Jane smiled and said something to Porievsky, and held out her arm-length tanned glove to him. So they spun around under the gaze of everyone. Even from here, you can see how powerfully and tenderly Poriyevsky hugged her slender waist. Their dance steps, which were at first unconfident and cautious on the mirror-smooth floor, became more and more relaxed and began to spin rapidly on the parquet floor. Tolstoy saw Jane swiftly changing the positions of her tiny feet in her pearl-studded shoes at the turn, her body almost suspended on the ground, while Porievsky held up gently She, be careful not to let her slip. Buturin and Alibekov have also chosen dance partners. Look, Nazarov leads his partner into the dance circle. Tolstoy still stood watching Jane. She was getting closer. During the waltz, he seemed to hear the rustling of her skirts.
Yekaterinsky small canal. Light snowflakes danced in the air. The dotted lights of the house flickered in and out of the snow and fog.
A bearded coachman in a sheepskin tunic drove along the banks of the river in three sets. The non-commissioned officers returning to school after the dance were sitting in the car.
In the distance, bonfires were burning on the Malsovo school grounds. You can hear the pounding of hammers - huge snow-capped mountains for skiing are being built to celebrate the upcoming festival. In a few days, there will be an unforgettable national festival of laughter, savagery, and gluttony.
In a small alley, the carriage stopped in front of a two-story building. Tolstoy lifted the bearskin blanket and jumped out of the car, waving to his companions and running towards the small building. At the door he looked back again.
Tolstoy (to the sergeants): I'll be right back, gentlemen...five minutes!
Dunyasha, a round-faced girl with a golden braid, opened the door for him. This is his maid. She was wearing a brown braggi with a tight apron over her skirt. Seeing the non-commissioned officers, she blushed with joy. And he hurriedly unbuttoned the scarf hat.
Dunyasha: Oh, my lord! ...
Tolstoy: Hello, Dunyasha! Is mom at home?
Dunyasha (takes the scarf hat and leather hat): At home, young master, at home. She was drinking tea with Nikolai Stepanovich.
Tolstoy (frowning): He's here too...
Dunyasha: So what, Master, here he is. Came yesterday. Alas, it's always like this... oh, master, will you stay long?
Tolstoy: No, Dunyasha, I'll... go right away, the sleigh is waiting - back to school.
Dunyasha: Oh, Andrey Alekseyevich, the samovar is piping hot, and the parsley pancakes you like...
Tolstoy (interrupting her): No, Dunyasha (goes up the stairs to the second floor)…
Tolstoy opened a high door and entered the room. Heavy, thick curtains hung over the three windows of the house. A lamp with a brass ball-like shade hangs directly in front of the dining table. The whole room is covered with smooth wallpaper, but the wallpaper is old. The two Turkish machetes and an ancient flute on the tapestry were dusted with dust. In the corner is an old piano. On the wall hangs a group of pictures of the same lady in clothing from different periods. This lady is his mother. She rose from the table where the refreshments had been set up and greeted her son. Opposite my mother sat a puffy, small-eyed man. His mouth was always slightly open, and his slack face was green-shaven. This is Nikolai Stepanovich, his family name is Nikoria. He just glanced at Andrei and continued pouring himself tea from the Saxon porcelain pot.
Andre's mother: God, Andre! Where are you from and what happened? ...
She greeted him and he embraced her and kissed her hand.
Tolstoy: Hello, mother...Hello, Uncle Nikolai...
Andre went over to hug him, but he held Andre a little, avoiding his kiss.
Nicolia: Ah, no, Andrei...you're coming from the cold...the thing is, I coughed all night...
Andre's mother: What happened? Take a loose coat...
Tolstoy: No, good mother, nothing. We came back from the dance and the sleigh was waiting down there. I'm in a hurry to leave... I, Mom, have something to do with you. Just, can I follow you...
Andre's mother: Is there any secret, Andre? You know, Nikolai Stepanovich is the closest person to us...
Tolstoy: Yes, yes, of course, Mom. but……
ANDREY'S MOTHER (firmly): No, Andrei, no! Anyway, it's impolite. God knows what Uncle Nikolay will think... say it.
Nicoria sat upright and drank tea, with a friar's expression on her face, as if she hadn't h
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