"Six and a half for the two.

Take it or leave it." Vjera looked at Schmidt anxiously as though to ask his opinion.
"They will not give more," he said, in Russian.
The girl took the money and the flimsy tickets and they went out into the street.

Vjera hesitated as to the direction she should take, and Schmidt looked to her as though awaiting her orders.
"Twenty-eight and a half and six and a half are thirty-five," she said, thoughtfully.

"And we have nothing more to give, but this.

I must sell it, Herr Schmidt." "Well, what is it ?" he asked, glad to know the secret at last.
"It is my mother's hair.