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saved a good sum of money, but was for ever dreaming of
improving his position. More than half the peasants were
in his clutches, everyone in the neighbourhood was in debt
to him. From the neighbouring landowners he bought and
rented lands which were worked by the peasants, in pay-
ment of debts which they could never shake off. He was a
widower, with four grown-up daughters. One of them was
already a widow and lived in the inn with her two children,
his grandchildren, and worked for him like a charwoman.
Another of his daughters was married to a petty official, and
in one of the rooms of the inn, on the wall could be seen,
among the family photographs, a miniature photograph
of this official in uniform and official epaulettes. The two
younger daughters used to wear fashionable blue or green
dresses, fitting tight at the back, and with trains a yard long,
on Church holidays or when they went to pay visits. But
next morning they would get up at dawn, as usual, sweep
out the rooms with a birch-broom, empty the slops, and
clean up after lodgers.
In spite of the thousands of roubles he had saved, Tri-
fon Borissovitch was very fond of emptying the pockets of a
drunken guest, and remembering that not a month ago he
had, in twenty-four hours, made two if not three hundred
roubles out of Dmitri, when he had come on his escapade
with Grushenka, he met him now with eager welcome,
scenting his prey the moment Mitya drove up to the steps.
‘Dmitri Fyodorovitch, dear sir, we see you once more!’
‘Stay, Trifon Borissovitch,’ began Mitya, ‘first and fore-
most, where is she?’

The Brothers Karamazov