'Wojciek...Soltys...say how much you want for the cow. I'll give it
you, I'll rip myself open to give it you...thirty-five paper roubles
and a silver rouble.'

'Oh dear, oh dear!' wailed the gospodyni. 'Weren't you letting the cow
go for thirty-three roubles just now, Soltys?'

Grochowski raised his tearful eyes first to her, then to Slimak.

'Was I?... Josef...brother...I'll give you the cow for thirty-three
roubles. Take her! let the orphan starve, so long as you, my brother,
get a prime cow.'

Slimate beat a tattoo on the table.

'Am I to cheat the orphan? I won't; I'll give you thirty-five....'

'What are you doing, you fool?' his wife interrupted him.

'Yes, don't be foolish,' Grochowski supported her. 'You have
entertained me so finely that I'll give you the cow for thirty-three
roubles. Amen! that's my last word.'

'I won't!' shouted Slimak. 'Am I a Jew that I should be paid for
hospitality?'

'Josef!' his wife said warningly.

'Go away, woman!' he cried, getting up with difficulty; 'I'll teach you
to mix yourself up in my affairs.'