THE COUNTING-HOUSE
tea, lay down on the sofa, and fell asleep. I slept for two hours.
When I woke, I meant to get up, but I was overcome by laziness; I closed my eyes, but did not fall asleep again. On the other side of the partition, in the office, they were talking in subdued voices. Unconsciously I began to listen.
'Quite so, quite so, Nikolai Eremyitch,' one voice was saying; 'quite so. One can't but take that into account; yes, certainly! . . . Hm!' (The speaker coughed.)
'You may believe me, Gavrila Antonitch,' replied the fat man's voice: 'don't I know how things are done here? Judge for yourself.'
'Who does, if you don't, Nikolai Eremyitch? you're, one may say, the first person here. Well, then, how's it to be?' pursued the voice I did not recognise; 'what decision are we to come to, Nikolai Eremyitch? Allow me to put the question.'
'What decision, Gavrila Antonitch? The thing depends, so to say, on you; you don't seem over anxious.'
'Upon my word, Nikolai Eremyitch, what do you mean? Our business is trading, buying; it's our business to buy. That's what we live by, Nikolai Eremyitch, one may say.'
'Eight roubles a measure,' said the fat man emphatically.
A sigh was audible.
'Nikolai Eremyitch, sir, you ask a heavy price.'
229
