His face grew black again, and he did not even glance at the notes. “You try to bribe me!”
“I suggest that you look at the money.”
But he held his menacing scowl upon her.
“There is fifteen thousand rubles there,” said she. “And there will be five more, twenty thousand rubles in all, when the work is completed.”
His gaze grew even blacker. “What—you dare insult me!”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“I tell you my honour is not for sale!” And he raised his hand above the bell.
“Thirty thousand,” said Sonya, “would be our limit.”
The hand paused—then sank to his side. He glowered at her, stormed at her—then at length he said:
“Why, even if I were willing, it could not be safely done!”