“No, he’s asleep. He may, though—”
He went to the door.
“No, he’s asleep,” he repeated, and went back to his place.
“Well, so what are we to say, Nikolai Eremyitch?” the merchant began again; “we must bring our little business to a conclusion.—Let it be so, Nikolai Eremyitch, let it be so,” he went on, blinking incessantly; “two gray notes and a white for your favor, and there” (he nodded in the direction of the house), “six and a half. Done, eh?”
“Four gray notes,” answered the clerk.
“Come, three, then.”
“Four grays and no white.”
“Three, Nikolai Eremyitch.”
“Three and a half, and not a farthing less.”
“Three, Nikolai Eremyitch.”