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"The Inn" by Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev is a poignant short story that explores themes of love, loneliness, and the transient nature of human connections. Set in a rural inn, the narrative revolves around a chance meeting between a disillusioned Russian gentleman and a young woman, both seeking solace from their personal struggles. Through their conversations and shared moments, Turgenev examines the complexities of their emotions, the constraints of social expectations, and the fleeting nature of happiness. The story is marked by Turgenev's lyrical prose and deep psychological insight, making it a reflective piece on the human condition.

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did not take much notice of him and only thought of him as a sharp young fellow who was rapidly making his way in the world. He did not suspect Avdotya's real feelings and went on believing in her as before. Two years passed like this. One summer day it happened that Lizaveta Prohorovna--who had somehow suddenly grown yellow and wrinkled during those two years in spite of all sorts of unguents, rouge and powder--about two o'clock in the afternoon went out with her lap dog and her folding parasol for a stroll before dinner in her neat little German garden. With a faint rustle of her starched petticoats, she walked with tiny steps along the sandy path between two rows of erect, stiffly tied-up dahlias, when she was suddenly overtaken by our old acquaintance Kirillovna, who announced respectfully that a merchant desired to speak to her on important business. Kirillovna was still high in her mistress's favour (in reality it was she who managed Madame Kuntse's estate) and she had some time before obtained permission to wear a white cap, which gave still more acerbity to the sharp features of her swarthy face. "A merchant?" said her mistress; "what does he want?" "I don't know what he wants," answered Kirillovna in an insinuating voice, "only I think he wants to buy something from you." Lizaveta Prohorovna went back into the drawing-room, sat down in her usual seat--an armchair with a canopy over it, upon which a climbing plant twined gracefully--and gave orders that the merchant should be summoned. Naum appeared, bowed, and stood still by the door. "I hear that you want to buy something of me," said Lizaveta Prohorovna, and thought to herself, "What a handsome man this merchant is." "Just so, madam." "What is it?" "Would you be willing to sell your inn?" "What inn?" "Why, the one on the high road not far from here." "But that inn is not mine, it is Akim's." "Not yours? Why, it stands on your land." "Yes, the land is mine ... bought in my name; but the inn is his." "To be sure. But wouldn't you be willing to sell it to me?" "How could I sell it to you?" "Well, I would give you a good price for it." Lizaveta Prohorovna was silent for a space. "It is really very queer what you are saying," she said. "And what would you give?" she added. "I don't ask that for myself but for Akim." "For all the buildings and the appurtenances, together with the land that goes with it, of course, I would give two thousand roubles." "Two thousand roubles! That is not enough," replied Lizaveta Prohorovna. "It's a good price." "But have you spoken to Akim?" "What should I speak to him for? The inn is yours, so here I am talking to you about it." "But I have told you.... It really is astonishing that you don't understand me." "Not understand, madam? But I do understand." Lizaveta Prohorovna looked at Naum and Naum looked at Lizaveta Prohorovna. "Well, then," he began, "what do you propose?" "I propose ..." Lizaveta Prohorovna moved in her chair. "In the first place I tell you that two thousand is too little and in the second ..." "I'll add another hundred, then." Lizaveta Prohorovna got up. "I see that you are talking quite off the point. I have told you already that I cannot sell that inn--am not going to sell it. I cannot ... that is, I will not." Naum smiled and said nothing for a space. "Well, as you please, madam," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I beg to take leave." He bowed and took hold of the door handle. Lizaveta Prohorovna turned round to him. "You need not go away yet, however," she said, with hardly perceptible agitation. She rang the bell and Kirillovna came in from the study. "Kirillovna, tell them to give this gentleman some tea. I will see you again," she added, with a slight inclination of her head. Naum bowed again and went out with Kirillovna. Lizaveta Prohorovna walked up and down the room once or twice and rang the bell again. This time a page appeared. She told him to fetch Kirillovna. A few moments later Kirillovna came in with a faint creak of her new goatskin shoes. "Have you heard," Lizaveta Prohorovna began with a forced laugh, "what this merchant has been proposing to me? He is a queer fellow, really!" "No, I haven't heard. What is it, madam?" and Kirillovna faintly screwed up her black Kalmuck eyes. "He wants to buy Akim's inn." "Well, why not?" "But how could he? What about Akim? I gave it to Akim." "Upon my word, madam, what are you saying? Isn't the inn yours? Don't we all belong to you? And isn't all our property yours, our mistress's?" "Good gracious, Kirillovna, what are you saying?" Lizaveta Prohorovna pulled out a batiste handkerchief and nervously blew her nose. "Akim bought the inn with his own money." "His own money? But where did he get the money? Wasn't it through your kindness? He has had the use of the land all this time as it is. It was all through your gracious permission. And do you suppose, madam, that he would have no money left? Why, he is richer than you are, upon my word, he is!" "That's all true, of course, but still I can't do it.... How could I sell the inn?" "And why not sell it," Kirillovna went on, "since a purchaser has luckily turned up? May I ask, madam, how much he offers you?" "More than two thousand roubles," said Lizaveta Prohorovna softly. "He will give more, madam, if he offers two thousand straight off. And you will arrange things with Akim afterwards; take a little off his yearly duty or something. He will be thankful, too." "Of course, I must remit part of his duty. But no, Kirillovna, how can I sell it?" and Lizaveta Prohorovna walked up and down the room. "No, that's out of the question, that won't do ... no, please don't speak of it again ... or I shall be angry." But in spite of her agitated mistress's warning, Kirillovna did continue speaking of it and half an hour later she went back to Naum, whom she had left in the butler's pantry at the samovar. "What have you to tell me, good madam?" said Naum, jauntily turning his tea-cup wrong side upwards in the saucer. "What I have to tell you is that you are to go in to the mistress; she wants you." "Certainly," said Naum, and he got up and followed Kirillovna into the drawing-room. The door closed behind them.... When the door opened again and Naum walked out backwards, bowing, the matter was settled: Akim's inn belonged to him. He had bought it for 2800 paper roubles. It was
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Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev

Ivan Sergeevich Turgenev (1818–1883) was a prominent Russian novelist, playwright, and poet, best known for his profound exploration of social and philosophical themes in 19th-century Russia. His notable works include the novel "Fathers and Sons," which delves into the generational conflict between the liberal intelligentsia and the nihilistic youth of his time. Turgenev's writing is characterized by its elegant prose, deep psychological insight, and compassion for the human condition. He was a key figure in the literary landscape of his era, praised for his ability to depict the complexities of Russian society and its evolving dynamics. His influence extended beyond literature, impacting both Russian cultural identity and the broader European literary canon. more…

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