“But it’s not worth while altering my manner of life now,” he thought, “while Maslova’s case is not decided.  Besides, it is too difficult.  It will alter of itself when she will be set free or exiled, and I follow her.”

On the appointed day Nekhludoff drove up to the advocate Fanarin’s own splendid house, which was decorated with huge palms and other plants, and wonderful curtains, in fact, with all the expensive luxury witnessing to the possession of much idle money, i.e., money acquired without labour, which only those possess who grow rich suddenly.  In the waiting-room, just as in a doctor’s waiting-room, he found many dejected-looking people sitting round several tables, on which lay illustrated papers meant to amuse them, awaiting their turns to be admitted to the advocate.  The advocate’s assistant sat in the room at a high desk, and having recognised Nekhludoff, he came up to him and said he would go and announce him at once.  But the assistant had not reached the door before it opened and the sounds of loud, animated voices were heard; the voice of a middle-aged, sturdy merchant, with a red face and thick moustaches, and the voice of Fanarin himself.  Fanarin was also a middle-aged man of medium height, with a worn look on his face.  Both faces bore the expression which you see on the faces of those who have just concluded a profitable but not quite honest transaction.

“Your own fault, you know, my dear sir,” Fanarin said, smiling.

“We’d all be in ’eaven were it not for hour sins.”

“Oh. yes, yes; we all know that,” and both laughed un-naturally.

“Oh, Prince Nekhludoff!  Please to step in,” said Fanarin, seeing him, and, nodding once more to the merchant, he led Nekhludoff into his business cabinet, furnished in a severely correct style.

“Won’t you smoke?” said the advocate, sitting down opposite Nekhludoff and trying to conceal a smile, apparently still excited by the success of the accomplished transaction.

“Thanks; I have come about Maslova’s case.”

“Yes, yes; directly!  But oh, what rogues these fat money bags are!” he said.  “You saw this here fellow.  Why, he has about twelve million roubles, and he cannot speak correctly; and if he can get a twenty-five rouble note out of you he’ll have it, if he’s to wrench it out with his teeth.”

“He says ‘’eaven’ and ‘hour,’ and you say ‘this here fellow,’” Nekhludoff thought, with an insurmountable feeling of aversion towards this man who wished to show by his free and easy manner that he and Nekhludoff belonged to one and the same camp, while his other clients belonged to another.

“He has worried me to death—­a fearful scoundrel.  I felt I must relieve my feelings,” said the advocate, as if to excuse his speaking about things that had no reference to business.  “Well, how about your case?  I have read it attentively, but do not approve of it.  I mean that greenhorn of an advocate has left no valid reason for an appeal.”