Explore "Figures" by Ivan Bunin on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The lamp in the nursery was not lit, and the windows were dark blue. Outside, a winter evening was coming on fast, and it was dreary in the room. You were still sitting on the floor, moving your matchboxes about. Those boxes of yours haunted me. I arose and decided to go out for a walk. But before I was gone, I heard grandma whisper to you:
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Uncle loves you so much and brings you presents and toys."