en, dropping his voice, "but only on condition that you're
not borrowing it for Laevsky."

"And if it were for Laevsky," cried Samoylenko, flaring up, "what
is that to you?"

"I can't give it to you for Laevsky. I know you like lending people
money. You would give it to Kerim, the brigand, if he were to ask
you; but, excuse me, I can't assist you in that direction."

"Yes, it is for Laevsky I am asking it," said Samoylenko, standing
up and waving his right arm. "Yes! For Laevsky! And no one, fiend
or devil, has a right to dictate to me how to dispose of my own
money. It doesn't suit you to lend it me? No?"

The deacon began laughing.

"Don't get excited, but be reasonable," said the zoologist. "To
shower benefits on Mr. Laevsky is, to my thinking, as senseless as
to water weeds or to feed locusts."

"To my thinking, it is our duty to help our neighbours!" cried
Samoylenko.

"In that case, help that hungry Turk who is lying under the fence!
He is a workman and more useful and indispensable than your Laevsky.
Give him that hundred-rouble note! Or subscribe a hundred roubles
to my expedition!"

"Will you give me the money or not? I ask you!"

"Tell me openly: what does he want money for?

"It's not a secret; he wants to go to Petersburg on Saturday."

"So that is it!" Von Koren drawled out. "Aha! . . . We understand.
And is she going with him, or how is it to be?"

"She's staying here for the time. He'll arrange his affairs in
Petersburg and send her the money, and then she'll go."

"That's smart!" said the zoologist, and he gave a short tenor laugh.
"Smart, well planned."

He went rapidly up to Samoylenko, and standing face to face with
him, and looking him in the eyes, asked: "Tell me now honestly: is
he tired of her? Yes? tell me: is he tired of her? Yes?"

"Yes," Samoylenko articulated, beginning to perspire.

"How repulsive it is!" said Von Koren, and from his face it could
be seen that he felt repulsion. "One of two things, Alexandr
Daviditch: either you are in the plot with him, or, excuse my saying
so, you are a simpleton. Surely you must see that he is taking you
in like a child in the most shameless way? Why, it's as clear as
day that he wants to get rid of her and abandon her here. She'll
be left a burden on you. It is as clear as day that you will have
to send her to Petersburg at your expense. Surely your fine friend
can't have so blinded you by his dazzling qualities that you can't
see t