Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume VII).djvu/222

Rh The governor gave him a dubious look.

'By the way, I must have a word with you, Semyon Petrovitch.'

'Why, what is it?'

'0h, something's amiss.'

'And what?'

'Well, I must tell you; your debtor, that peasant who came to me with a complaint'

'Well?'

'He's hanged himself, you know.'

'When?'

'It's of no consequence when: but it's a bad business.'

Kallomyetsev shrugged his shoulders, and with a dandified swing of his elegant person moved away to the window. At that instant the adjutant brought in Markelov.

The governor had spoken truly about him; he was unnaturally calm. Even his habitual moroseness had vanished from his face and was replaced by an expression of a sort of indifferent weariness. It did not change when he saw his brother-in-law, and only in the glance he flung at the German adjutant escorting him there was a momentary flash of his old hatred for that class of persons. His coat had been torn in two places and hurriedly sown up with coarse thread; on his forehead, over one eyebrow, and on the bridge of his nose could