“But I also work by commission broking. To sell an estate, to buy an estate, to arrange a second mortgage—you won’t find a better specialist than me, and such a cheap one at that. I can be of service to you, should the need arise,” and he extended his visiting card to the land-owner with a bow, and, by the way, handed a card each to his two neighbours as well.
The land-owner dived into a side pocket and also dragged out a card.
“Joseph Ivanovich Vengjenovski,” Simon Yakovlevich read out loud. “Very, very pleased! And so, should you need me ...”
“Why not? It’s possible ...” said the land-owner meditatively. “Why, yes: perhaps, indeed, a favourable chance has brought us together! Why, I’m just journeying to K——about the sale of a certain forest country house. Suppose you do that, then,—drop in to see me. I always stop at the Grand Hotel. Perhaps we may be able to strike up a deal.”
“Oh, I’m already almost sure, my dearest Joseph Ivanovich!” exclaimed the rejoicing Horizon, and slightly, with the very tips of his fingers, patted Vengjenovski’s kneecap carefully. “You just rest assured; if Horizon has undertaken anything, then you’ll be thanking him like your own father, no more, no less.”
Half an hour later Simon Yakovlevich and the smooth-faced sub-lieutenant were standing on the platform of the car and smoking.
“Do you often visit K——, mister sub-lieutenant?” asked Horizon.
“Only for the first time—just imagine! Our regiment is stationed at Chernobob. I was born in Moscow, myself.”
“AI, AI, AI! How’d you come to get into such a faraway place?”
“Well, it just fell out so. There was no other vacancy when I was let out.”