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`Yes - I was in Kiev,' Kritsky replied angrily, his face darkening. `And this woman,' Nikolai Levin interrupted him, pointing to her, `is my lifemate, Marya Nikolaevna. I took her out of a dive, and he jerked his neck as he said it. `But I love her and respect her, and anyone who wants to know me,' he added, raising his voice and knitting his brows, `is requested to love her and respect her. She's precisely the same as a wife to me - precisely. So now you know whom you've got to do with. And if you think you're lowering yourself - well, there's the door, and God speed thee!' And again his eyes traveled inquiringly over all of them. `But how will I lower myself? I don't understand.' `Then, Masha, tell them to bring supper; three portions, and vodka and wine... No, wait a minute... No, it doesn't matter... Go ahead.' |
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