"What were you dreaming about that you didn't open the door for me?" she asked caressingly, throwing aside her hat and cloak, and taking a seat on the tumble-down sofa. "What were you busy at?"
"You know, yourself."
And instead of explaining further, he drew the banknote from his pocket and showed it to Natasha.
"This morning the master paid me, and I am keeping the money," he continued in a low voice, tilting back his chair. "I pay neither for my rooms nor my shop, but sit here and study all the time."
"It's so well worth while, isn't it?" smiled Natasha with a contemptuous grimace.
"You don't think it is worth while?" said the young man. "Wait! I'll learn. We'll be rich!"
"Yes, if we aren't sent to Siberia!" the girl laughed, "What kind of wealth is that?" she went on. "The game is not worth the candle. I'll be rich before you are."
"All right, go ahead!"
"Go ahead? I didn't come to talk nonsense, I came on business. You help me, and, on my word of honor, we'll be in clover!"
Bodlevski looked at his companion in astonishment.