"There is nothing I love better than meeting spring in the
country, although I am a busy, prosaic sort of person, tied to
town. . . I want you to count your first month as beginning
from today. My wife and boy have already started, and are
probably in Moscow by now. We shall find them in the lap of
nature. We will go alone, like two bachelors, ha, ha!" Sipiagin
laughed coquettishly, through his nose. "And now--"

He took a black and silver pocketbook out of his overcoat pocket
and pulled out a card.

"This is my address. Come and see me tomorrow at about twelve
o'clock. We can talk things over further. I should like to tell
you a few of my views on education. We can also decide when to
start."

Sipiagin took Nejdanov's hand. "By the way," he said, lowering
his voice and bending his head a little to one side, "if you are
in need of money, please do not stand on ceremony. I can let you
have a month's pay in advance."

Nejdanov was at a loss to know what to say. He gazed, with the
same puzzled expression, at the kind, bright face, which was so
strange yet so close to him, smiling encouragingly.

"You are not in need of any?" Sipiagin asked in a whisper.

"I will tell you tomorrow, if I may," Nejdanov said at last.

"Well, goodbye, then. Till tomorrow." Sipiagin dropped