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"But is the thing settled between you or not? If it's settled,

it's useless haggling; but if it's not," said Levin, "I'll buy

the forest."

The smile vanished at once from Ryabinin's face. A hawklike,

greedy, cruel expression was left upon it. With rapid, bony

fingers he unbuttoned his coat, revealing a shirt, bronze

waistcoat buttons, and a watch chain, and quickly pulled out a

fat old pocketbook.

"Here you are, the forest is mine," he said, crossing himself

quickly, and holding out his hand. "Take the money; it's my

forest. That's Ryabinin's way of doing business; he doesn't

haggle over every half-penny," he added, scowling and waving the

pocketbook.

"I wouldn't be in a hurry if I were you," said Levin.

"Come, really," said Oblonsky in surprise. "I've given my word,

you know."

Levin went out of the room, slamming the door. Ryabinin looked

towards the door and shook his head with a smile.