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bibliophile's collection of wide ranging and masterful short stories, embracing both the subtle and the macabre, the whimsical and the downright frightful. Fifty captivating short stories which will keep listeners glued to their headsets.

It was past midnight. Nikolay Yevgrafitch knew his wife would not be home very soon, not till five o'clock at least. He did not trust her, and when she was long away he could not sleep, was worried, and at the same time he despised his wife, and her bed, and her looking-glass, and her boxes of sweets, and the hyacinths, and the lilies of the valley which were sent her every day by someone or other, and which diffused the sickly fragrance of a florist's shop all over the house.

The party of sportsmen spent the night in a peasant's hut on some newly mown hay. The moon peeped in at the window; from the street came the mournful wheezing of a concertina; from the hay came a sickly sweet, faintly troubling scent. The sportsmen talked about dogs, about women, about first love and about snipe.

Young, impressionable Masha sees a tragic actor, Fenogenov, during his benefit night and falls madly in love with him. Masha decides to run away with the actor and marry him despite her father's clear disapproval. Her father disowns her, describing her husband as idle, stupid and of no fixed home or occupation. Masha later finds herself in desperate need of money and has to seek help from her farther. Read in English, unabridged.

Orson Welles, Sir Laurence Olivier, and Michael Redgrave present a collection of classic Russian fiction including "The Overcoat", "The Queen of Spades", and "A Day in the Country."

Natalya just returned from Yalta, Crimea, and is telling her husband over dinner of all the charms of Crimea. Her husband, delighted, gazes tenderly at her enthusiastic face, listens, and from time to time puts in a question. Natalya's never-ceasing babble gets her into serious trouble, however. She is eager to expose her friend Yulia for some indiscretion with a local guide, and this leads to revelations of Natalya's own 'gay' times with one of the Tatar guides.

In the cheapest room of a big block of furnished apartments Stepan Klotchkov, a medical student in his third year, was walking to and fro, zealously conning his anatomy. In the window, covered by patterns of frost, sat Anyuta, a thin little brunette of five-and-twenty, very pale with mild grey eyes. Sitting with bent back she was busy embroidering with red thread the collar of a man's shirt. She was working against time....

Strizhin, who normally leads a sober and regular life, comes home from a christening party where he had permitted himself to drink four glasses of vodka and a glass of wine. And of course spirituous liquors being like sea-water and glory: the more you imbibe of them the greater your thirst, Strizhin felt an overwhelming craving for another drink. He accidentally downed a glass of paraffin instead of vodka, and in desperate search for a doctor at 4 a.m. he found that a doctor is only readily found when he is not wanted.

Subtle humour is one of the key elements in Chekhov's imaginative stories. But as an artist, Chekhov is more complicated. He paints life with all its nuances and shades of grey. His stories are full of characters who give us invaluable insight into universal wisdom of everyday life - civilised professionals, enlightened misfits, philanthropic gentry, rich landowners and impoverished royalty holding candles for reason, justice and passion.

One day when she was younger and better looking, and when her voice was stronger, Nikolay Petrovitch Kolpakov, her adorer, was sitting in the outer room in her summer villa. It was intolerably hot and stifling. Kolpakov, who had just dined and drunk a whole bottle of inferior port, felt ill humoured and out of sorts. Both were bored and waiting for the heat of the day to be over in order to go for a walk. Read in English, unabridged.

Natalya Bronin is lying in her bedroom, her whole being abandoned to repose. She lies, deliciously drowsy, thinking of her little daughter, who lives somewhere far away with her grandmother or aunt. The child is more precious to her than the public, bouquets, notices in the papers, and adorers, and she would be glad to think about her till morning. She is happy, at peace, and all she longs for is not to be prevented from lying undisturbed, dozing and dreaming of her little girl. Read in English, unabridged.

Big raindrops were pattering on the dark windows. It was one of .those disgusting summer holiday rains which, when they have begun, last a long time - for weeks, till the frozen holiday maker grows used to it and sinks into complete apathy. It was cold; there was a feeling of raw, unpleasant dampness. The mother-in-law of a lawyer, called Kvashin, and his wife, Nadyezhda Filippovna, dressed in waterproofs and shawls, were sitting over the dinner table in the dining room.

'If anything happens it's all known at once, nothing is hidden! It's incredible! You can't imagine! Look! My name has been published! Now all Russia knows of me!' A cautionary tale about people wanting and getting fame at any cost.

Polinka, a thin fair little person whose mother is the head of a dressmaking establishment, is standing in the middle of the shop looking about for some one. Nikolay Timofeitch, a graceful dark young man, fashionably dressed, with frizzled hair and a big pin in his cravat, has already cleared a place on the counter and is craning forward, looking at Polinka with a smile.

Anton Chekhov (1860-1904), sometimes referred to as the chronicler of the Russian period of depression and pessimism, was the leader of the realistic school of the Russian short story. His ability to create an atmosphere and build to a climax is unparalleled. He takes a moment in the protagonists' lives and reveals their souls in a handful of phrases. Mediocrity, pettiness, emptiness and meaninglessness are core themes as he strips bare the rot at the core of social structures.

A native Frenchman no longer tutors the wealthy landlord's children, as they've grown up and left the house. The Frenchman is now paid simply to be around, to be properly dressed, to smell of scent, and to listen to Kamyshev's babble, to eat and drink and sleep. It may sound like a dream job, but there's always a catch. Read in English, unabridged.

I understood that when you love you must either, in your reasonings about that love, start from what is highest, from what is more important than happiness or unhappiness, sin or virtue in their accepted meaning, or you must not reason at all.

Madame Nashatyrin is fed up with violent behaviour and foul language emanating from an abusive male guest next door. She has two grown-up daughters and is concerned about their well-being when complaining to the hotel-keeper. 'Either give me other apartments, or I shall leave your confounded hotel altogether! It's a sink of iniquity! Why don't you get rid of the scoundrel?' But as soon as the marital status of the scoundrel is revealed, she meditates and concludes that there's something good in everyone after all.

Besides being a great short story writer, Anton Chekhov was also a master of the novella. One of his best is My Life, the tale of a rebellious young man so disgusted with bourgeois society that he drops out to live amongst the working classes, only to find himself once more disillusioned.

The Darling by Anton Chekhov is a humorous and poignant character study of an endearing woman. Chekhov gives us a puzzling heroine who seems to subordinate herself to the male intellect yet emerges as a gentle woman blighted by disappointment, but still "soldiering on."