He made three steps, paused, looked around and repeated louder:
"What a scoundrel! Vermin!"
He spat and walked away. Peredonov looked after him and then turned homewards. Confused and timorous thoughts crowded through his head. Vershina called to him. She stood smoking behind the bars of her garden-gate, wrapped up in a large black shawl. Peredonov did not at once recognise her. Something malignant in her figure seemed to threaten him. She stood like a black sorceress and blew out smoke, as if she were casting a spell. He spat and pronounced an exorcism. Vershina laughed and asked:
"What's the matter with you, Ardalyon Borisitch?"
Peredonov looked vaguely at her and said at last:
"Ah, it's you! I didn't recognise you."
"That's a good sign. It means I'll soon be rich," said Vershina.
This did not please Peredonov, he wanted to be rich himself.
"Get away!" he exclaimed angrily. "Why should you be rich—you'll always be what you are now."
"Never mind, I shall win twenty thousand," said Vershina with a wry smile.