From behind the door there came a slight rustle, abrupt smothered sounds, as though someone were breathing or laughing with a closed mouth. Nadezhda looked sternly in the direction of the door and said coldly: "You are too concerned about me," with an annoying emphasis on the word "too." "You don't want a rich husband," said Peredonov, "you're rich yourself. You need someone to love you and gratify you in everything. And you know him, you could understand him. He's not indifferent to you and perhaps you're not indifferent to him either. So you see I have the merchant and you have the goods. That is, you are the goods yourself." Nadezhda blushed and bit her lip to keep from laughing. The same sounds continued behind the door. Volodin bashfully lowered his eyes. It seemed to him that his affair was going well. "What goods?" asked Nadezhda cautiously. "Pardon me, I don't understand." "What do you mean, 'you don't understand'?" asked Peredonov incredulously. "Well, I'll tell you straight. Pavel Vassilyevitch has come to ask for your hand and heart. I ask on his behalf." Behind the door something fell to the floor and rolled and snorted and panted. Nadezhda, growing red with suppressed laughter, looked at her visitors. Volodin's proposal seemed to her a ridiculous impertinence. "Yes," said Volodin, "Nadezhda Vassilyevna, I've come to ask for your hand and heart." He grew red and rose from his chair--his foot awkwardly rumpled the carpet--bowed and quickly sat down again. Then he got up again, put his hand on his heart and said as he looked tenderly at the girl: "Nadezhda Vassilyevna, permit me to say a few words! As I have loved you for some time you surely will not say 'no' to me?" He threw himself forward and let himself down on one knee before Nadezhda and kissed her hand. "Nadezhda Vassilyevna, believe me! I swear to you!" he exclaimed, and lifted his hand high in the air and with a wild swing hit himself full on the chest so that the sound re-echoed through the room. "What's the matter with you! Please get up," said Nadezhda in embarrassment. "Why are you doing this?" Volodin rose and with an injured expression on his face returned to his seat. There he pressed both his hands on his chest and again exclaimed: "Nadezhda Vassilyevna, do believe me! Until death, from all my soul." "I'm sorry," said Nadezhda, "but I really can't. I must bring up my brother--even now he's crying behind the door." "Bring up your brother," said Volodin, protruding an offended lip. "I fail to see why that should prevent it." "No, in any case it concerns him," said Nadezhda, rising hurriedly. "He must be asked. Just wait." She quickly ran from the drawing-room, rustling with her bright yellow dress, caught Misha by the shoulder behind the door and ran with him to his room; as she stood there by the door panting with running and suppressed laughter, she said in a breathless voice: