"Mê! I should hire a lodging and apply myself to some business!"
"And what is your business now?"
"What business?"
"What do you live on?"
"That's what you mean! One just lives."
"On what?"
"God's providence. When He gives something, one has it!"
"But He doesn't throw things down from heaven?"
"He does so! Can I tell how I live? Let us reckon: I need a lot of money, at least four rubles a week. The house yields, beside my own lodging, twelve rubles a year—nine go in taxes, five in repairs, leaves a hole in the pocket of two rubles a year! That's it."
He puts on airs: