"As a matter of fact, I have ready a tchetvertak [39] or two." "Oh, no, no," the answer would come.

"Not a tchetvertak per copyist, but a rouble, is the fee." "What?
A rouble per copyist ?" "Certainly.

What is there to grumble at in that?
Of the money the copyists will receive a tchetvertak apiece, and the rest will go to the Government." Upon that the disillusioned suitor would fly out upon the new order of things brought about by the inquiry into illicit fees, and curse both the tchinovniks and their uppish, insolent behaviour.

"Once upon a time," would the suitor lament, "one DID know what to do.

Once one had tipped the Director a bank-note, one's affair was, so to speak, in the hat.