'Why, what do I want to know where you've going for?'
'What for? Why, suppose some one comes on urgent business, and asks, "Where's Ivan Afanasiitch?" And then you can tell him, "Ivan Afanasiitch has gone here or there."'
'Urgent business. . . But who ever does come to you on urgent business?'
'Why, are you beginning to be rude again? Again, hey?'
Onisim turned away, and fell to brushing the coat.
'Really, Onisim, you are a most disagreeable person.'
Onisim looked up from under his brows at his master.
'And you're always like this. Yes, positively always.'
Onisim smiled.
'But what's the good of my asking you where you're going, Ivan Afanasiitch? As though I didn't know! To the girl at the baker's shop!'
'There, that's just where you're wrong! that's just where you're mistaken! Not to her at all. I don't intend going to see the girl at the baker's shop any more.'
Onisim dropped his eyelids and brandished the brush. Pyetushkov waited for his approbation; but his servant remained speechless.
'It's not the proper thing,' Pyetushkov went
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