“Thanks very much,” Golushkin said hastily, and bending down to Markelov, added, “I will give a thousand roubles for the cause in any case.... Don’t be afraid of that!”
And so saying, he waved his right hand three times, with the thumb and little finger sticking out. “You may rely on me!” he added.
He accompanied his guests to the door, shouting, “I shall expect you at three!”
“Very well,” Markelov was the only one to reply.
“Gentlemen!” Solomin exclaimed as soon as they found themselves in the street, “I am going to take a cab and go straight back to the factory. What can we do here until dinnertime? A sheer waste of time, kicking our heels about, and I am afraid our worthy merchant is like the well-known goat, neither good for milk nor for wool.”
“The wool is there right enough,” Markelov observed gloomily. “He promised to give us some money. Don’t you like him? Unfortunately, we can’t pick and choose. People do not run after us exactly.”
“I am not fastidious,” Solomin said calmly. “I merely thought that my presence would not do much good. However,” he added, glancing at Nejdanov with a smile, “I will stay if you like. Even death is bearable in good company.”
Markelov raised his head.
“Supposing we go into the public garden. The weather is lovely. We can sit and look at the people.”
“Come along.”