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Virgin Soil by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev
page 42 of 415 (10%)
reassert themselves. He stood still, as if rooted to the spot,
with fixed gaze. After a while his hands involuntarily found
their way to the table drawer, from which he pulled out a much-
used copy-book. He dropped into a chair with the same fixed look,
humming softly to himself and every now and again shaking back
his wavy hair, began writing line after line, sometimes
scratching out and rewriting.

The door leading into the passage opened slightly and Mashurina's
head appeared. Nejdanov did not notice her and went on writing.
Mashurina stood looking at him intently for some time, shook her
head, and drew it back again. Nejdanov sat up straight, and
suddenly catching sight of her, exclaimed with some annoyance:
"Oh, is that you?" and thrust the copy-book into the drawer
again.

Mashurina came into the room with a firm step.

"Ostrodumov asked me to come," she began deliberately.

"He would like to know when we can have the money. If you could
get it today, we could start this evening."

"I can't get it today," Nejdanov said with a frown. Please come
tomorrow."

"At what time?"

"Two o'clock."

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