Somewhat confused, Nikanor Ivanovich protested that foreigners were supposed to stay at the Metropole and not in private apartments.

" I tell you, he's fussy as the devil! " whispered Korovyov. " He just doesn't want to! Doesn't like hotels! I've had it up to here with these foreign visitors! " Korovyov complained confidentially, poking a finger at his veiny neck. " Believe me, they run you ragged! They come here, and they either snoop around like a son of a bitch, or they wear you out with their whims: this isn't right, that isn't right... Besides, Nikanor Ivanovich, your committee has everything to gain and nothing to lose. He doesn't begrudge any expense." Korovyov glanced around, and then whispered in the chairman's ear, " He's a millionaire! "

The interpreter's proposition made a lot of practical sense. It was a very solid proposal, but there was something decidedly unsolid about his manner of speaking, his attire, and that sickening, totally useless pince-nez. As a result, a vague sense of uneasiness troubled the chairman's soul, but he decided to accept the offer anyway. The fact of the matter was that the house committee had incurred, alas, an enormous deficit. They had to buy heating oil for the fall, and where the money would come from was a mystery. Maybe the foreign visitor's money would get them out of the hole. Even so, the businesslike and cautious Nikanor Ivanovich said that he would first have to clear the matter with the Intourist Office.

" I understand! " screeched Korovyov. " How could you not sort things out! It's essential! Here's the telephone, Nikanor Ivanovich, why don't you sort them out right away. And don't be embarrassed to ask for money, " he added in a whisper, as he drew the chairman toward the phone in the hall. " Who can you get money from if not from him! If you could only see the villa he has in Nice! Next summer when you go abroad, make sure you go and have a look—you'll faint! "

All the arrangements with the Intourist Office were made over the phone with a swiftness that amazed the chairman. It turned out that they already knew about Mr. Woland's plans to stay in Likhodeyev's private apartment, and they had no objections whatsoever.

" Marvelous! " cried Korovyov.

A bit dazed by his constant chatter, the chairman said that the house committee agreed to rent apartment No. 50 for a week to the artiste Woland at the rate of... Nikanor Ivanovich stammered somewhat and said, " Five hundred rubles a day."

82 The Master and Margarita

At this point Korovyov really bowled the chairman over. Winking roguishly in the direction of the bedroom, where the cushioned leaps of a heavy cat could be heard, he hissed, " That comes to thirty-five hundred for the week, right? "

Nikanor Ivanovich quite expected him to add, " You've got quite an appetite, don't you, Nikanor Ivanovich! " but again Korovyov surprised him. " You call that money! Ask for five thou, he'll pay it."

Nikanor Ivanovich gave a confused grin and failed to notice that he was standing next to the deceased's writing desk, where Korovyov was drawing up two copies of a contract with great speed and agility. Next, he whisked them into the bedroom and returned with both copies signed in the foreigner's scrawling hand. The chairman signed the contract too. Here Korovyov asked for a receipt for the five thousand...

" Write it out, Nikanor Ivanovich, write it out! Five thousand rubles..." And then, in a manner ill-suited to the seriousness of the occasion, he said, " eins, zwei, drei! " as he counted out five stacks of fresh banknotes for the chairman.

This was done to the accompaniment of Korovyov's little jokes and quips, such as, " A penny saved is a penny earned, " " A fool and his money are soon parted, " and other things ofthat sort.

After re-counting the money, the chairman took the foreigner's passport from Korovyov in order to make out a temporary residence permit, and then put it, along with the contract and the money, into his briefcase. Unable to control himself, he bashfully asked for a free pass to the show...

" Why, of course! " bellowed Korovyov. " How many tickets would you like, Nikanor Ivanovich, twelve, Fifteen? "