"What about the Princess?" asked Varvara.
"The Princess," he said, "let her give me the job first and then I'll get married—you write her that."
"But you know, Ardalyon Borisitch," Varvara began in a persuasive voice, "that the Princess had made her promise on condition that I marry first. Otherwise, it is awkward for me to ask on your behalf."
"Write her that we're already married," said Peredonov, rejoicing in his sudden inspiration.
Varvara was for a moment disconcerted, but quickly recovered herself, and said:
"What's the use of lying, the Princess might investigate. You'd better arrange the date for the marriage; it's time to begin making the dress."
"What dress?" demanded Peredonov, gruffly.
"Could anyone get married in these rags?" shouted Varvara. "You had better give me some money, Ardalyon Borisitch, for the dress."
"Are you preparing yourself for your coffin?" asked Peredonov.
"You're a beast, Ardalyon Borisitch!"