"Two per cent a month will be a godsend to you," the policeman
explained. "While lying by, your money is simply eaten by the moth,
and that's all that you get from it."

Afterwards the visitors went out and a silence followed. But Yakov
Ivanitch had hardly begun reading and singing again when a voice
was heard outside the door:

"Brother, let me have a horse to drive to Vedenyapino."

It was Matvey. And Yakov was troubled again. "Which can you go
with?" he asked after a moment's thought. "The man has gone with
the sorrel to take the pig, and I am going with the little stallion
to Shuteykino as soon as I have finished."

"Brother, why is it you can dispose of the horses and not I?" Matvey
asked with irritation.

"Because I am not taking them for pleasure, but for work."

"Our property is in common, so the horses are in common, too, and
you ought to understand that, brother."

A silence followed. Yakov did not go on praying, but waited for
Matvey to go away from the door.

"Brother," said Matvey, "I am a sick man. I don't want possession
--let them go; you have them, but give me a small share to keep
me in my illness. Give it me and I'll go away."