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to Levin, trying to seize his hand too. But Levin, scowling, made as
though he did not notice his hand, and took out the snipe. “Your
honors have been diverting yourselves with the chase? What kind of
bird may it be, pray?” added Ryabinin, looking contemptuously at the
snipe: “a great delicacy, I suppose.” And he shook his head disapprov-
ingly, as though he had grave doubts whether this game were worth
the candle.
“Would you like to go into my study?” Levin said in French to
Stepan Arkadyevitch, scowling morosely. “Go into my study; you can
talk there.”
“Quite so, where you please,” said Ryabinin with contemptuous
dignity, as though wishing to make it felt that others might be in diffi-
culties as to how to behave, but that he could never be in any difficulty
about anything.
On entering the study Ryabinin looked about, as his habit was, as
though seeking the holy picture, but when he had found it, he did not
cross himself. He scanned the bookcases and bookshelves, and with
the same dubious air with which he had regarded the snipe, he smiled
contemptuously and hook his head disapprovingly, as though by no
means willing to allow that this game were worth the candle.
“Well, have you brought the money?” asked Oblonsky. “Sit down.”
“Oh, don’t trouble about the money. I’ve come to see you to talk it
over.”
“What is there to talk over? But do sit down.”
“I don’t mind if I do,” said Ryabinin, sitting down and leaning his
elbows on the back of his chair in a position of the intensest discomfort
to himself. “You must knock it down a bit, prince. It would be too bad.
The money is ready conclusively to the last farthing. As to paying the
money down, there’ll be no hitch there.”
Levin, who had meanwhile been putting his gun away in the cup-
board, was just going out of the door, but catching the merchant’s
words, he stopped.
“Why, you’ve got the forest for nothing as it is,” he said. “He came
to me too late, or I’d have fixed the price for him.”
Ryabinin got up, and in silence, with a smile, he looked Levin down
and up.
“Very close about money is Konstantin Dmitrievitch,” he said with
a smile, turning to Stepan Arkadyevitch; “there’s positively no dealing
with him. In was bargaining for some wheat of him, and a pretty price
In offered too.”
“Why should I give you my goods for nothing? I didn’t pick it up on
the ground, nor steal it either.”
“Mercy on us! nowadays there’s no chance at all of stealing. With
the open courts and everything done in style, nowadays there’s no
question of stealing. We are just talking things over like gentlemen.
His excellency’s asking too much for the forest. I can’t make both ends
meet over it. I must ask for a little concession.”
“But is the thing settled between you or not? If it’s settled, it’s
useless haggling; but if it’s not,” said Levin, “I’ll buy the forest.”
The smile vanished at once from Ryabinin’s face. A hawklike,
greedy, cruel expression was left upon it. With rapid, bony fingers he
unbuttoned his coat, revealing a shirt, bronze waistcoat buttons, and a
watch chain, and quickly pulled out a fat old pocketbook.
“Here you are, the forest is mine,” he said, crossing himself quickly,
and holding out his hand. “Take the money; it’s my forest. That’s
Ryabinin’s way of doing business; he doesn’t haggle over every half-
penny,” he added, scowling and waving the pocketbook.
“I wouldn’t be in a hurry if I were you,” said Levin.