“You’re right, clerk,” said the latter, “you’re right, tipsy spirit⁠—you’re right!⁠—Nastasia Philipovna,” he added, looking at her like some lunatic, harmless generally, but suddenly wound up to a pitch of audacity, “here are 18,000 roubles, and⁠—and you shall have more⁠—” Here he threw a packet of banknotes tied up in white paper, on the table before her, not daring to say all he wished to say.

“No⁠—no⁠—no!” muttered Lebedeff, clutching at his arm. He was clearly aghast at the largeness of the sum, and thought a far smaller amount should have been tried first.

“No, you fool⁠—you don’t know whom you are dealing with⁠—and it appears I am a fool, too!” said Parfen, trembling beneath the flashing glance of Nastasia. “Oh, curse it all! What a fool I was to listen to you!” he added, with profound melancholy.

Nastasia Philipovna, observing his woebegone expression, suddenly burst out laughing.