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 CHAPTER XXVII

HUSBAND AND WIFE

he reporter Persitsky was actively preparing

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for the bicentenary of the great mathematician Isaac Newton. At the height of his work Stepan came in from the ‘ Science and Life ’ section and a fat woman came trailing in after him. ‘ Comrade Persitsky,’ he said, ‘ this citizen has come to see you on business.’ Then he turned to the woman and said; ‘ Come in, citizen, come in. Comrade Persitsky will explain everything to you.’ He grinned at Persitsky and then went out of the room. The widow Gritsatsuev, for it was she, looked sadly at the reporter and without saying a word thrust a piece of paper at him. ‘ Yes,’ said Persitsky. ‘" Knocked down by a horse. . . . Escaped with a fright.” . . . Well, what of it ? ’ ‘ The address,’ murmured the widow pleadingly. ‘ Can you tell me what the address is ? ’ ‘ Whose address ? ’ ‘ Ostap Bender’s. ‘ Why should I know what his address is ? ’ ' But the other comrade told me you would know it.’ ' I don’t know anything of the sort. Go and ask at the post office.’ ' But perhaps you’U remember it. He was wearing yellow boots'- ’ ' But, my dear woman. I’m wearing yellow boots, and there are two hundred thousand other people in Moscow who, for aU I know, are walking about in yellow boots. Perhaps you’d like me to find out their addresses for you ? Of course I can easily stop what I’m doing and i8l
 * Well,’ said Persitsky, ‘ what can I do for you ? ’