“Now that’s a businesslike question,” answered Ostrov, with a hoarse laugh, “very much a business question, not so much a gracious as a businesslike question. What do I want? In the first place, I am delighted to see you. There is a certain bond between us—our childhood and all the rest of it.”
“I’m very glad,” said Trirodov dryly.
“I doubt it,” responded Ostrov impudently. “Then again, my dear chap, I’ve come for something else. In fact, you’ve guessed what I’ve come for. You’ve been a psychologist ever since I can remember.”
“What is it you want?” asked Trirodov.
“Can’t you guess?” said Ostrov, winking his eye.
“No,” replied Trirodov dryly.
“In that case there’s nothing left for me to do but to tell you straight: I need money.”
He laughed hoarsely, unnaturally; then, pouring out a glass of wine, mumbled as he gulped it down:
“Good wine.”
“Every one needs money,” answered Trirodov coldly. “Where do you intend to get it?”