He already had quite a sum of money. Almost an even thousand roubles.
A strange warmth pervaded his being.
He had a good deal of work, too. He could really start a large factory, and in time——
He fairly lost his breath. He really had a wonderful opportunity to attain great wealth,—here was a chance to work wonders. He—with such a capital and a reputation like his, and with an industrious worker like Chyenke. For she was truly a wonderful worker. As capable as the strongest of men.
And, he must confess, she was certainly good-looking. A genuine beauty, far prettier than when she was a girl. Much better looking than Chashke. For a fleeting moment he felt that this thought insulted Chashke and shamed him, but his fatigued brain continued to think confusedly.
Chyenke loved him, too,—ever so much. Despite everything she had made his bed! Ha-ha-ha!...
And to tell the truth, all of them were right. “You child, you, wages will cost you practically twice as much as another, and your men will accomplish during the day only half as much as elsewhere! Well, smarty!... Then your goods will cost you four times as much....” Uncle Jonah’s words and the Gemara sing-song echoed in his ears. Yet somehow or other he could not grasp the figures. Just why would his goods cost him four times as much, rather than twice?
“But it seems to me the reckoning is correct,” Chashke’s words returned to him.
He would try to figure it out for himself. He concentrated his mind. Their wages would be ... no, not twice as much as the regular rate. He was not so foolish as all that, even if he had never learned accounting. He would give them merely a slight advance over current wages. Well,—and they would accomplish, during the day—why only half as much? The idea! Only half as much! “Well, smarty! Then your goods ...” echoed Uncle Jonah’s words once more. So then, how much dearer would his goods cost him? He was anxious to know, and furrowed his forehead.... “Even as the shepherd watches over his flock....” A snatch of a New Year’s prayer began to hum in his ears. But he dismissed the tune and continued his calculations. His drowsiness overcame him—he could not figure it out:
“... Seems to me the reckoning is correct ...” came Chashke’s words again to his mind.