“Mr. Trirodov is to all appearances a rich man,” said Kerbakh unwillingly. “A rich man? That’s agreeable news. In fact, this wealth of Mr. Trirodov’s is of comparatively recent origin. I’m quite sure of that. Of recent origin, I assure you,” repeated Ostrov, giving a sly wink. “And not of the cleanest?” asked Kerbakh. He winked at Zherbenev. The latter made a grimace and chuckled. Ostrov looked cautiously at Kerbakh. “Why do you assume so?” he asked. “No-o, I shouldn’t say that. Quite clean. Indeed, I can assure you of its clean origin,” he repeated with peculiar emphasis. Misha looked with curiosity at the speakers. He wished to hear something about Trirodov. But Piotr quickly paid his bill and rose to go. Kerbakh tried to hold him. “Here’s a friend of your friend Trirodov,” he said. “I haven’t yet had time to become a friend of Trirodov’s,” Piotr answered sharply, “and I don’t intend to. As for his friends, nearly every one has his more or less strange acquaintance.” And he quickly left with Misha. Ostrov glanced after him with a smile and said: “A grave young man.” “Mr. Trirodov has bought some land belonging to him and his brother,” explained Kerbakh. Piotr Matov’s hostility to Trirodov evidently had its roots in the chance circumstance that Trirodov had bought the house and part of the estate, the Prosianiya Meadows, which formerly belonged to the paternal Matov. Many in the town of Skorodozh remembered very well Dmitry Alexandrovitch Matov, the father of Piotr and Mikhail Matov. He had been a member of the local District Council for a single term, and was not chosen again. He could not hide his connexions and his affairs, and lost his reputation, though the scandal was hushed up. This happened when times were still quiet. During his term of office he paid visits to the governor more often than necessary. About the same time, in response to some one’s complaint, the President of the District Council had been dispatched “in administrative order” to the Olonetsk Government. There were dark rumours about Matov. At the next election a few votes were given in his favour, but not enough. He ceased to have any connexion with the District Council. Matov’s money affairs were in a bad state. He led a heedless life, dissipated, and roamed from place to place. Bold, headstrong, unrestrained, he lived only for his own pleasure. More than once he squandered all--to the last farthing. But invariably he found sudden means again, no one knew how, and again he would lead a dissipated, gay, profligate life. His estate was mortgaged and re-mortgaged. His relations with the peasants began to be unbearable. Their own difficulties and his temper led to constant disputes. A reign of spite began: the cattle were driven into the corn, some of the buildings were set afire, some of the peasants were gaoled.