'Well, that's all right!' Maria Nikolaevna decided at last. 'I know your estate now . . . as well as you do. What price do you suggest per soul?' (At that time, as every one knows, the prices of estates were reckoned by the souls living as serfs on them.)
'Well . . . I imagine . . . I could not take less than five hundred roubles for each,' Sanin articulated with difficulty. O Pantaleone, Pantaleone, where were you! This was when you ought to have cried again, 'Barbari!'
Maria Nikolaevna turned her eyes upwards as though she were calculating.
'Well?' she said at last. 'I think there's no harm in that price. But I reserved for myself two days' grace, and you must wait till to-morrow. I imagine we shall come to an arrangement, and then you will tell me how much you want paid down. And now, basta cosi!' she cried, noticing Sanin was about to make some reply. 'We've spent enough time over filthy lucre . . . à demain les affaires. Do you know what, I 'll let you go now . . . (she glanced at a little enamelled watch, stuck in her belt) . . . till three o'clock . . . I must let you rest. Go and play roulette.'
'I never play games of chance,' observed Sanin.
189
