"And you might choose your friends with a better view to your own
interests," she answered without hesitation. "If you allow this sort of
thing to go on, and four children growing up, and you expecting to open
another shop this summer--why, you had better turn count yourself," she
concluded, triumphantly, and with that nice logical perception peculiar to
her kind.
"If you mean to say that the Count's valuable help has not been to our
advantage--" began Fischelowitz, making a desperate effort to give a more
pleasant look to things.
"Oh, I know that," laughed Akulina, scornfully. "I know that the Count, as
you call him, can make his two thousand a day as well as any one. I am not
blind. And I know you, and I know that it is a sort of foolish pleasure to
you to employ a count in the work and to pay your money to a count, though
he does not earn it any better than any one else, nor any worse, to be
just. And I know the Count, and I know his friends who borrow fifty marks
of you and pay you back in stuffed dolls with tunes in them. I know you,
Christian Gregorovitch"--at the thought of the lost money Akulina broke at
last into her native language and gave the reins to her fury in good
Russian--"yes, I know you, and him, and his friends and your friends, and
I see the good yellow money flying out of the window like a flight of
canary birds when the cage is opened, and I see you grinning like
Player-Ape over the vile Vienna puppet, and winding up its abominable
music as though you were turning the key upon your money in the safe
instead of listening to the tune of its departure.
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