None of the ladies of the
regiment ordered as much from him as Mrs. Shaldin. Her grandmother
would send her material from Kiev or the doctor would go on a
professional trip to Chernigov and always bring some goods back with
him; or sometimes her aunt in Voronesh would make her a gift of some
silk.
"Abramka is always ready to serve Mrs. Shaldin first," said the
tailor, though seized with a little pang, as if bitten by a guilty
conscience.
"Are you sure you are telling the truth? Is Abramka always to be
depended upon? Eh, is he?" She looked at him searchingly from beneath
drooping lids.
"What a question," rejoined Abramka. His face quivered slightly. His
feeling of discomfort was waxing. "Has Abramka ever--"
"Oh, things can happen. But, all right, never mind. I brought a dress
along with me. I had to have it made in a great hurry, and there is
just a little more to be done on it. Now if I give you this dress to
finish, can I be sure that you positively won't tell another soul how
it is made?"
"Mrs. Shaldin, oh, Mrs. Shaldin," said Abramka reproachfully.
Nevertheless, the expression of his face was not so reassuring as
usual.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335