"No, really, I could not offer you any more than two roubles," Tchichikoff said again.
"Very well, then, and in order to be agreeable to you, and that you might not pretend that I demanded too high a price, and that I would not oblige you, you shall have them at seventy-five roubles each dead serf, but all in bank notes, and I really do it all out of friendship for you."
"Does he really take me for a fool," thought Tchichikoff to himself, and then added aloud: "All this seems very strange to me; it would appear that we are playing a comedy, else I really could not explain how—you seem to be a man of sound judgment, you can pretend to a superior education, don't you therefore see and understand, that the object in question is simply, phu, phu! what is it really worth? who could make use of it?"
"But you wish to purchase them, I think it therefore obvious that you want them."
When Tchichikoff heard this, he bit his lips, and could not find an answer. He began to mutter something about family connexions and household circumstances, but Sobakevitch interrupted him, and said simply:
"I do not want to know anything about your circumstances, I never mix in family concerns, all that is your own affair. You stand in want of serfs, I am ready to sell some, and I may add, you will be dissatisfied with yourself if you don't buy them of me."
"Well then, two roubles," said Tchichikoff.
"What a curious man you are; you seem to have fixed upon two, and now you cannot get off them. Offer me your last price."
"May the devil take him," thought Tchichikoff to himself, "I will give him half a rouble more, and make the proverb true, for the dog to buy nuts with!
"Very well then, I offer you half a rouble more."