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My Fellow-Traveller | Maxim Gorky | |
The Story Of A Journey |
Page 2 of 3 |
His face wore a broad smile, and for some unknown reason he kept winking at me, never for a moment ceasing to chew. Making him a sign to wait a moment, I went away to buy meat, brought it, gave it to him, and stood by the boxes, thus completely shielding my poor dandy from outsiders' eyes. He was still eating ravenously, and constantly looking round as if afraid someone might snatch his food away; but after I returned, he began to eat more calmly, though still so fast and so greedily that it caused me pain to watch this famished man. And I turned my back on him. "Thanks! Many thanks indeed!" He patted my shoulder, snatched my hand, pressed it, and shook it heartily. Five minutes later he was telling me who he was. He was a Georgian prince, by name Shakro Ptadze, and was the only son of a rich landowner of Kutais in the Caucasus. He had held a position as clerk at one of the railway stations in his own country, and during that time had lived with a friend. But one fine day the friend disappeared, carrying off all the prince's money and valuables. Shakro determined to track and follow him, and having heard by chance that his late friend had taken a ticket to Batoum, he set off there. But in Batoum he found that his friend had gone on to Odessa. Then Prince Shakro borrowed a passport of another friend--a hair-dresser-- of the same age as himself, though the features and distinguishing marks noted therein did not in the least resemble his own. |
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Creatures That Once Were Men Maxim Gorky |
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