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Extra info for East-West Trade at the Crossroads: Economic Relations With the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe

Sample text

You would have sent him to be flogged if I had, and I was sorry for him. . " "People like him don't deserve being sorry for. " At the mention of Anton's name, Anyutka the maid stifled a sigh. That young, reckless, curly-headed sailor, who had been so fond of drinking and, when drunk, became so boastful and saucy, had left the pleasantest memories in her mind of the two months he'd been with them. She had been in love with Anton and had shed many a tear when the captain, at the insistent request of his wife, had sent him to the naval depot to be flogged—which happened not infrequently.

And the Zabiyaka sailed smoothly on, borne along by a steady trade wind. The watch had practically nothing to do except on those rare occasions when a storm-cloud crept up and all sails had to be taken in to meet the oncoming squall and its torrents of rain with stripped masts, that is to say: with the least possible area of resistance. But the horizon was quite clear this day, with nowhere a sign of that tiny patch of misty grey which, rapidly growing, finally becomes a mighty storm-cloud, blotting out both sun and horizon.

When Luchkin, abandoning his attempts to explain about the cap, burrowed into his chest and presented Maximka with a lump of sugar, the little boy was quite overwhelmed. He took one of the sailor's rough, horny hands in his own and stroked it gently and timidly, at the same time looking up at him with an expression of touching gratitude in his face—the expression of a downtrodden creature suddenly warmed by kindness. This gratitude shone in his face and his eyes, it showed itself in the tremor in his little voice as, in the heat of emotion, he murmured one or two guttural-sounding words in his native tongue before putting the sugar in his mouth.

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