Persikov flushed with anger.
Whoever measures it like that? Pah! What are you talking about? Of course, if you were to take half-a-pound of frog-spawn, then perhaps... Well, about that much, damn it, but perhaps a lot more!" Diamonds flashed in the young man's eyes, as he filled up yet another page in one fell swoop.
Is it true that this will cause a world revolution in animal husbandry?" "Trust the press to ask a question like that," Persikov howled.
I forbid you to write such rubbish.
I can see from your face that you're writing sheer nonsense!" "And now, if you'd be so kind, Professor, a photograph of you," said the young man, closing his note-pad with a snap.
What's that? A photograph of me? To put in those magazines of yours? Together with all that diabolical rubbish you've been scribbling down.
No, certainly not... And I'm extremely busy.
I really must ask you to..." "Any old one will do.
And we'll return it straightaway." "Pankrat!" the Professor yelled in a fury.
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