"You will do that, really?" he said to me in a low voice.
"Yes."
Titoff burst out laughing, and it sounded as if some one had thrown silver pieces on the ground.
"All right, my holy one, that is all that I needed. From now on we will manage this affair differently. We won't bother any more with kopecks. We will deal with rubles. If the thief's dress is too tight, he becomes honest."
He went out, slamming the door so that the panes in the windows rattled.
It seemed to me that Titoff was a little more cross after that. Still I was not quite sure of it. But he left me in, peace from then on.
He was a terrible miser, and though he did not deny himself anything, nevertheless he knew how to value a penny. He ate well and was very fond of women, and as he had the power in his hands, there was not a woman in the village who dared to refuse him. He let the young girls alone, and only went to the married women. He made my blood hot once or twice.
"What is the matter, Matvei?" he asked. "Are you timid? To take a woman is like giving charity. In the country every woman yearns for love. But the men are weak and worn out, and what can the women expect from them? You are a strong, handsome young fellow; why not make love to the women? You would get some pleasure out of it yourself."
He followed every villainy, the low rascal. Once he asked me:
"Do you think, Matvei, that a pious man is of much value in the eyes of God?"