PODKHALYÚZIN. Such an underhanded gang, sir.

BOLSHÓV. [_Turning over the pages_] One couldn't get through reading them
until to-morrow. Take it away!

PODKHALYÚZIN. They only dirty the paper. What a moral lesson for the whole
merchant corporation! [_Silence_.

RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Good-by, Samsón Sílych, I'll run home now; I have some
little matters to look after.

BOLSHÓV. You might sit a little while longer.

RISPOLÓZHENSKY. No, confound it, Samsón Sílych, I haven't time. I'll come
to you as early as possible to-morrow morning.

BOLSHÓV. Well, as you choose!

RISPOLÓZHENSKY. Good-by! Good-by, Lázar Elizárych! [_He goes out_.



SCENE XII

BOLSHÓV _and_ PODKHALYÚZIN


BOLSHÓV. Now consider, Lázar, what trading's like: just think about it. You
think it's getting money for nothing? "Money, not much!" they tell you;
"ain't seen any for a long time. Take my note," they say. But what are