Explore "The Cook's Wedding and Other Stories" by Anton Chekhov on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
But she thought of nothing, she simply whined. When her head and back were entirely plastered over with the soft feathery snow, and she had sunk into a painful doze of exhaustion, all at once the door of the entrance clicked, creaked, and struck her on the side. She jumped up. A man belonging to the class of customers came out. As Kashtanka whined and got under his feet, he could not help noticing her. He bent down to her and asked: "Doggy, where do you come from? Have I hurt you? O, poor thing, poor thing... Come, don't be cross, don't be cross... I am sorry."
Kashtanka looked at the stranger through the snow-flakes that hung on her eyelashes, and saw before her a short, fat little man, with a plump, shaven face wearing a top hat and a fur coat that swung open.