Further the schoolmaster enlarged on the liberality with which the
pupils were provided with writing materials in the factory schools
as compared with the Zemstvo and Government schools. And for all
this the school was indebted, in his opinion, not to the heads of
the firm, who lived abroad and scarcely knew of its existence, but
to a man who, in spite of his German origin and Lutheran faith, was
a Russian at heart.

Sysoev spoke at length, with pauses to get his breath and with
pretensions to rhetoric, and his speech was boring and unpleasant.
He several times referred to certain enemies of his, tried to drop
hints, repeated himself, coughed, and flourished his fingers
unbecomingly. At last he was exhausted and in a perspiration and
he began talking jerkily, in a low voice as though to himself, and
finished his speech not quite coherently: "And so I propose the
health of Bruni, that is Adolf Andreyitch, who is here, among us
. . . generally speaking . . . you understand . . ."

When he finished everyone gave a faint sigh, as though someone had
sprinkled cold water and cleared the air. Bruni alone apparently
had no unpleasant feeling. Beaming and rolling his sentimental eyes,
the German shook Sysoev's hand with feeling and was again as friendly
as a dog.

"Oh, I thank you," he said, with an emphasis on the _oh_, laying
his left hand on his heart. "I am very happy that you understand
me! I, with my whole heart, wish you all things good. But I ought
only to observe; you exaggerate my importance. The school owes its
flourishing condition only to you, my honoured friend, Fyodor
Lukitch. But for you it would be in no way distinguished from other