Oblomov / Обломов. Книга для чтения на английском языке

„Oh, to hell with the letter! Rack my brains over such trifles! I’ve lost the knack of writing business letters. Good Lord, it’s almost three o’clock!“

„Well, Zakhar, here you are!“

He tore the letter into four and threw it on the floor.

„Did you see that?“ he asked.

„I saw it“, replied Zakhar, picking up the bits of paper.

„So don’t pester me any more about the flat, there’s a good fellow. And what have you got there?“

„The bills, sir“.

’Oh, good heavens, you’ll be the death of me! Well, how much is it? Tell me quickly?»

«Eighty-six roubles and fifty-four copecks – to the butcher, sir».

Oblomov threw up his hands in dismay.

В«Have you gone mad? Such a lot of money for the butcher only?В»

«If you don’t pay for three months, sir, it’s liable to mount up. It’s all written down here. No one has stolen it!»

«And you still say you’re not venomous, do you?» said Oblomov.

«I didn’t eat it», Zakhar muttered angrily.

«You didn’t, didn’t you?»

В«So you begrudge me my food now, do you, sir? Here, have a look at it yourself!В» And he shoved the bills to Oblomov.

В«Well, who else is there?В» said Oblomov, pushing away the greasy little books with vexation.

«There’s another one hundred and twenty-one roubles and eighteen copecks owing to the baker and greengrocer».

«This is sheer ruin! It’s just madness!» Oblomov said, losing his temper. «Are you a cow that you have munched so much greenstuff?»

«No, sir, I’m a venomous creature!» Zakhar observed bitterly, turning almost entirely away from his master. «If you didn’t let Mr Tarantyev come, you wouldn’t have to pay so much», he added.

В«Well, how much does it come to altogether? Count!В» said Oblomov and began counting himself.

Zakhar was calculating on his fingers.

«Goodness only knows how much it comes to: every time it’s different», said Oblomov. «Well, what do you make it? Two hundred, isn’t it?»

«Half a minute, sir! Give me time!» said Zakhar, screwing up his eyes and muttering. «Eight tens and ten tens – eighteen and two more tens…»

«Oh, you’ll never finish it», said Oblomov.