Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume X).djvu/234

Rh 'He 's not here now. He left yesterday.' 'Where 's he gone?' 'To America.' 'To America!' I repeated involuntarily. 'But he will come back?' The servant looked at me suspiciously. 'We don't know about that. May be he won't come back at all.' 'And has he been living here long?' 'Not long, a week. He 's not here now.' 'And what was his surname, the baron's?' The girl stared at me. 'You don't know his name ? We simply called him the baron. — Hi! Piotr!' she shouted, seeing I was pushing in. 'Come here; here 's a stranger keeps asking questions.' From the house came the clumsy figure of a sturdy workman. 'What is it? What do you want?' he asked in a sleepy voice; and having heard me sullenly, he repeated what the girl had told me. 'But who does live here?' I asked. 'Our master.' 'Who is he?' 'A carpenter. They 're all carpenters in this street.' 'Can I see him?' 'You can't now, he 's asleep.'