Page:Sologub Sweet Scented Name.djvu/153

 his tea. In came the landlady herself. Her little black eyes twinkled as she called out sarcastically:

"The correspondence of Sergey Matveitch Moshkin, Esq."

And whilst he read the card she peered at him from under the yellow triangle of her brow and muttered:

"Letters won't pay for board and lodging. Letters won't fill your stomach. Better go to people and hunt for work, not strut like a Spaniard."

He read:

"Be kind enough to call to discuss matters from 6 to 7, 6th Line, No. 78, lodging 57."

Without signature.

Moshkin looked spitefully at the landlady. She stood at the door, fat, stiff, and calm like a great, staring doll. And she looked at him with cold, malicious, steady eyes.

Moshkin cried out:

"Basta!"

He struck with his fist on the table, stood up, and commenced to march up and down the room, all the while repeating:

"Basta!"

The landlady softly enquired: