He, however, found something that he was not seeking. He found a bride with a dowry.
This happened just at the time when he was tiring of looking about for a partner. He was pouring out the bitterness of his heart before an old friend.
“Enough! I’ve got the right partner for you!” cried the friend. “And a partner for your whole life.”
Drabkin looked hard at him.
“Do you want to marry a girl with five hundred roubles?”
Drabkin’s heart sank within him. To descend to mere matchmaking! Five hundred roubles! Suddenly before his eyes appeared the vision of Chashke.
“The people I’m talking about are very anxious to have you,” his friend was saying. “A perfect doll of a girl! And clever at her trade,—one out of a thousand.... Hush, she’s a pocketbook maker, just like yourself.”
Drabkin was still unable to realise what it was all about, and the image of Chashke continued to hover before his eyes.
“They’re very anxious to have you,” repeated his friend. “It seems to me that the girl is head over heels in love with you. She knows you for a long time. I believe she used to work with you. Well, are you willing? Just say the word and one, two,—it’s done. I won’t ask you for any marriage-broker’s fee. I’ll ask only the honour of leading you under the canopy. Well?”
“A match?” was all Drabkin could stammer. “I’ll not listen to the idea!...”