“What at?” repeated Sanin. “Why, at our journey together.” “What about it?” Polozov inquired again, dropping into his mouth one of the longitudinal sections into which an orange parts. “It’s so very strange. Yesterday I must confess I thought no more of you than of the Emperor of China, and to-day I’m driving with you to sell my estate to your wife, of whom, too, I have not the slightest idea.” “Anything may happen,” responded Polozov. “When you’ve lived a bit longer, you won’t be surprised at anything. For instance, can you fancy me riding as an orderly officer? But I did, and the Grand Duke Mihail Pavlovitch gave the order, “Trot! let him trot, that fat cornet! Trot now! Look sharp!” Sanin scratched behind his ear. “Tell me, please, Ippolit Sidorovitch, what is your wife like? What is her character? It’s very necessary for me to know that, you see.” “It was very well for him to shout, ‘Trot!’” Polozov went on with sudden vehemence, “But me! how about me? I thought to myself, ‘You can take your honours and epaulettes—and leave me in peace!’ But … you asked about my wife? What my wife is? A person like any one else. Don’t wear your heart upon your sleeve with her—she doesn’t like that. The great thing is to talk a lot to her … something for her to laugh at. Tell her about your love, or something … but make it more amusing, you know.” “How more amusing?” “Oh, you told me, you know, that you were in love, wanting to get married. Well, then, describe that.” Sanin was offended. “What do you find laughable in that?” Polozov only rolled his eyes. The juice from the orange was trickling down his chin. “Was it your wife sent you to Frankfort to shop for her?” asked Sanin after a short time. “Yes, it was she.” “What are the purchases?” “Toys, of course.” “Toys? have you any children?” Polozov positively moved away from Sanin. “That’s likely! What do I want with children? Feminine fallals … finery. For the toilet.” “Do you mean to say you understand such things?” “To be sure I do.” “But didn’t you tell me you didn’t interfere in any of your wife’s affairs?” “I don’t in any other. But this … is no consequence. To pass the time—one may do it. And my wife has confidence in my taste. And I’m a first-rate hand at bargaining.” Polozov began to speak by jerks; he was exhausted already. “And is your wife very rich?” “Rich; yes, rather! Only she keeps the most of it for herself.” “But I expect you can’t complain either?” “Well, I’m her husband. I’m hardly likely not to get some benefit from it! And I’m of use to her. With me she can do just as she likes! I’m easy-going!” Polozov wiped his face with a silk handkerchief and puffed painfully, as though to say, “Have mercy on me; don’t force me to utter another word. You see how hard it is for me.” Sanin left him in peace, and again sank into meditation.