“Sh!”
And just at the moment the noise subsided some one’s loud, indignant whisper was heard:
“How she pinched me, the carrion.”
And Bobrov inquired in his deep basso:
“Where did she pinch you?”
All burst into ringing laughter, but soon fell silent, for Yakov Tarasovich Mayakin, rising to his feet, cleared his throat, and, stroking his bald crown, surveyed the merchants with a serious look expecting attention.
“Well, brethren, open your ears!” shouted Kononov, with satisfaction.
“Gentlemen of the merchant class!” began Mayakin with a smile. “There is a certain foreign word in the language of intelligent and learned people, and that word is ‘culture.’ So now I am going to talk to you about that word in all the simplicity of my soul.”
“So, that’s where he is aiming to!” some ones satisfied exclamation was heard.
“Sh! Silence!”