“Seventy-five thousand.”

“It’s rather a lot.  But if we were to negotiate with her?”

“She won’t take a farthing less.  She is an awful woman, brother,” sighed Vlassitch.  “I’ve never talked to you about her before—­it was unpleasant to think of her; but now that the subject has come up, I’ll tell you about her.  I married her on the impulse of the moment—­a fine, honourable impulse.  An officer in command of a battalion of our regiment—­if you care to hear the details—­had an affair with a girl of eighteen; that is, to put it plainly, he seduced her, lived with her for two months, and abandoned her.  She was in an awful position, brother.  She was ashamed to go home to her parents; besides, they wouldn’t have received her.  Her lover had abandoned her; there was nothing left for her but to go to the barracks and sell herself.  The other officers in the regiment were indignant.  They were by no means saints themselves, but the baseness of it was so striking.  Besides, no one in the regiment could endure the man.  And to spite him, you understand, the indignant lieutenants and ensigns began getting up a subscription for the unfortunate girl.  And when we subalterns met together and began to subscribe five or ten roubles each, I had a sudden inspiration.  I felt it was an opportunity to do something fine.  I hastened to the girl and warmly expressed my sympathy.  And while I was on my way to her, and while I was talking to her, I loved her fervently as a woman insulted and injured.  Yes. . . .  Well, a week later I made her an offer.  The colonel and my comrades thought my marriage out of keeping with the dignity of an officer.  That roused me more than ever.  I wrote a long letter, do you know, in which I proved that my action ought to be inscribed in the annals of the regiment in letters of gold, and so on.  I sent the letter to my colonel and copies to my comrades.  Well, I was excited, and, of course, I could not avoid being rude.  I was asked to leave the regiment.  I have a rough copy of it put away somewhere; I’ll give it to you to read sometime.  It was written with great feeling.  You will see what lofty and noble sentiments I was experiencing.  I resigned my commission and came here with my wife.  My father had left a few debts, I had no money, and from the first day my wife began making acquaintances, dressing herself smartly, and playing cards, and I was obliged to mortgage the estate.  She led a bad life, you understand, and you are the only one of the neighbours who hasn’t been her lover.  After two years I gave her all I had to set me free and she went off to town.  Yes. . . .  And now I pay her twelve hundred roubles a year.  She is an awful woman!  There is a fly, brother, which lays an egg in the back of a spider so that the spider can’t shake it off:  the grub fastens upon the spider and drinks its heart’s blood.  That was how this woman fastened upon me and sucks the blood of my heart.  She hates and despises me for being so stupid; that is, for marrying a woman like her.  My chivalry seems to her despicable.  ‘A wise man cast me off,’ she says, ‘and a fool picked me up.’  To her thinking no one but a pitiful idiot could have behaved as I did.  And that is insufferably bitter to me, brother.  Altogether, I may say in parenthesis, fate has been hard upon me, very hard.”