Sanin proceeded to expound his case, that is to say, again, a second
time, to describe his property, not touching this time on the beauties
of nature, and now and then appealing to Polozov for confirmation of
his “facts and figures.” But Polozov simply gasped and shook his head,
whether in approval or disapproval, it would have puzzled the devil,
one might fancy, to decide. However, Maria Nikolaevna stood in no need
of his aid. She exhibited commercial and administrative abilities that
were really astonishing! She was familiar with all the ins-and-outs of
farming; she asked questions about everything with great exactitude,
went into every point; every word of hers went straight to the root of
the matter, and hit the nail on the head. Sanin had not expected such a
close inquiry, he had not prepared himself for it. And this inquiry
lasted for fully an hour and a half. Sanin experienced all the
sensations of the criminal on his trial, sitting on a narrow bench
confronted by a stern and penetrating judge. “Why, it’s a
cross-examination!” he murmured to himself dejectedly. Maria Nikolaevna
kept laughing all the while, as though it were a joke; but Sanin felt
none the more at ease for that; and when in the course of the
“cross-examination” it turned out that he had not clearly realised the
exact meaning of the words “repartition” and “tilth,” he was in a cold
perspiration all over.
“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.
“Really? Why, you’re a paragon. Though I don’t either. It’s stupid
throwing away one’s money when one’s no chance. But go into the
gambling saloon, and look at the faces. Very comic ones there are
there. There’s one old woman with a rustic headband and a moustache,
simply delicious! Our prince there’s another, a good one too. A
majestic figure with a nose like an eagle’s, and when he puts down a
_thaler_, he crosses himself under his waistcoat. Read the papers, go a
walk, do what you like, in fact. But at three o’clock I expect you …
_de pied ferme_. We shall have to dine a little earlier. The theatre
among these absurd Germans begins at half-past six. She held out her
hand. “_Sans rancune, n’est-ce pas?_”
“Really, Maria Nikolaevna, what reason have I to be annoyed?”
“Why, because I’ve been tormenting you. Wait a little, you’ll see.
There’s worse to come,” she added, fluttering her eyelids, and all her
dimples suddenly came out on her flushing cheeks. “Till we meet!”
Sanin bowed and went out. A merry laugh rang out after him, and in the
looking-glass which he was passing at that instant, the following scene
was reflected: Maria Nikolaevna had pulled her husband’s fez over his
eyes, and he was helplessly struggling with both hands.