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"It's all youthfulness-positively nothing but boyishness. Why,

I'm buying it, upon my honor, simply, believe me, for the glory

of it, that Ryabinin, and no one else, should have bought the

copse of Oblonsky. And as to the profits, why, I must make what

God gives. In God's name. If you would kindly sign the

title-deed...."

Within an hour the merchant, stroking his big overcoat neatly

down, and hooking up his jacket, with the agreement in his

pocket, seated himself in his tightly covered trap, and drove

homewards.

"Ugh, these gentlefolks!" he said to the clerk. "They-they're a

nice lot!"

"That's so," responded the clerk, handing him the reins and

buttoning the leather apron. "But I can congratulate you on the

purchase, Mihail Ignatitch?"

"Well, well...."

Chapter 17