more. She consented to receiving from him bouquets of
flowers, a modest breakfast in a suburban restaurant; but indignantly
refused all expensive presents, and bore herself so skillfully and
subtly, that the notary never got up the courage to offer her money.
When he once stammered out something about a separate apartment and
other conveniences, she looked him in the eyes so intently, haughtily,
and sternly, that he, like a boy, turned red in his picturesque gray
hairs, and kissed her hands, babbling incoherent apologies.

So did Tamara play with him, and feel the ground more and more under
her. She already knew now on what days the notary kept in his fireproof
iron safe especially large sums. However, she did not hurry, fearing to
spoil the business through clumsiness or prematurity.

And so right now this long expected day arrived; a great contractors'
fair had just ended, and all the notaries' offices were transacting
deals for enormous suras every day. Tamara knew that the notary usually
carried off the money to the bank on Saturdays, in order to be
perfectly free on Sunday. And for that reason on Friday the notary
received the following letter:

"My dear, my adored King Solomon! Thy Shoilamite, thy girl of the
vineyard, greets thee with burning kisses ... Dear, to-day is a holiday
for me, and I am infinitely happy. To-day I am free, as well as you. HE
has gone away to Homel for twenty-four hours on business matters, and I
want to pass all the evening and ALL the night in your place. Ah, my
beloved! All my life I am ready to pass on my knees before thee. I do
not want to go anywhere. The suburban road-houses and cabarets have
bored me long ago. I want you, only you ... you ... you alone. Await
me, then, in the evening, my joy, about ten-eleven-o'clock! Prepare a
great quantity of cold white wine, a canteloupe, and sugared chestnuts.
I am burning, I am dying from desire! It seems to me, I will tire you
out! I can not wait! My head is spinning around, my face burning, and
my hands as cold as ice. I embrace you. Thy Valentina."

That very same evening, about eleven o'clock, she artfully, through
conversation, led the notary into showing her his fireproof safe;
playing upon his odd, pecuniary vanity. Rapidly gliding with her glance
over the shelves and the movable boxes, Tamara turned away with a
skillfully executed yawn and said:

"Fie, what a bore!"

And, having embraced the notary's neck, she whispered with her