“Much? No, not very much; but I feel terribly ashamed. He paid for me at three post-stations, and the sugar was always his, so that I don’t⁠ ⁠… Yes, and we played at Préférence⁠ ⁠… and I lost a little to him.”

“That’s bad, Volódya! Now what would you have done if you had not met me?” the elder remarked sternly, without looking at him.

“Well, you see, brother, I thought I’d pay when I got my travelling allowance in Sevastopol. I could do that, couldn’t I?⁠ ⁠… So I’d better drive on with him tomorrow.”

The elder brother drew out his purse and with slightly trembling fingers produced two ten-rouble notes and one of three roubles.

“There’s the money I have,” he said; “how much do you owe?”