Anton Chekhov

“ You look such a skinny thing, and yet one can hardly feel your ribs. That's the second . . . that's the third. . . . Oh, this is muddling, and one can't see it clearly. . . . I must draw it. . . . Where's my crayon?"
Klotchkov took his crayon and drew on Anyuta's chest several parallel lines corresponding with the ribs.
"First-rate. That's all straightforward. . . . Well, now I can sound you. Stand up!"
Anyuta stood up and raised her chin. Klotchkov began sounding her, and was so absorbed in this occupation that he did not notice how Anyuta's lips, nose, and fingers turned blue with cold. ”

“ An educated man is in duty bound to have taste, isn't he? And goodness knows what it's like here! The bed not made, the slops, the dirt . . . yesterday's porridge in the plates. . . Tfoo!"
"That's true," said the student in confusion; "but Anyuta has had no time to-day to tidy up; she's been busy all the while."
When Anyuta and the artist had gone out Klotchkov lay down on the sofa and began learning, lying down ”

“ When, on coming back from the artist's, she took off her coat, he got up and said to her seriously:
"Look here, my good girl . . . sit down and listen. We must part! The fact is, I don't want to live with you any longer."
Anyuta had come back from the artist's worn out and exhausted. Standing so long as a model had made her face look thin and sunken, and her chin sharper than ever. She said nothing in answer to the student's words, only her lips began to tremble.
"You know we should have to part sooner or later, anyway," said the student. "You're a nice, good girl, and not a fool ”