"Why, you've got the forest for nothing as it is

"Why, you've got the forest for nothing as it is," he said. "He came to me too late, or I'd have fixed the price for him."
Ryabinin got up, and in silence, with a smile, he looked Levin down and up.
"Very close about money is Konstantin Dmitrievitch," he said with a smile, turning to Stepan Arkadyevitch; "there's positively no dealing with him. In was bargaining for some wheat of him, and a pretty price In offered too."
"Why should I give you my goods for nothing? I didn't pick it up on the ground, nor steal it either."
"Mercy on us! nowadays there's no chance at all of stealing. With the open courts and everything done in style, nowadays there's no question of stealing. We are just talking things over like gentlemen. His excellency's asking too much for the forest. I can't make both ends meet over it. I must ask for a little concession."
"But is the thing settled between you or not? If it's settled, it's useless haggling; but if it's not," said Levin, "I'll buy the forest."
The smile vanished at once from Ryabinin's face. A hawklike, greedy, cruel expression was left upon it. With rapid, bony fingers he unbuttoned his coat, revealing a shirt, bronze waistcoat buttons, and a watch chain, and quickly pulled out a fat old pocketbook.
"Here you are, the forest is mine," he said, crossing himself quickly, and holding out his hand. "Take the money; it's my forest. That's Ryabinin's way of doing business; he doesn't haggle over every half-penny," he added, scowling and waving the pocketbook.
"I wouldn't be in a hurry if I were you," said Levin.
"Come, really," said Oblonsky in surprise. "I've given my word, you know."
Levin went out of the room, slamming the door. Ryabinin looked towards the door and shook his head with a smile.
"It's all youthfulness--positively nothing but boyishness. Why, I'm buying it, upon my honor, simply, believe me, for the glory of it, that Ryabinin, and no one else, should have bought the copse of Oblonsky. And as to the profits, why, I must make what God gives. In God's name. If you would kindly sign the title-deed..."
Within an hour the merchant, stroking his big overcoat neatly down, and hooding up his jacket, with the agreement in his pocket, seated himself in his tightly covered trap, and drove homewards.
"Ugh, these gentlefolks!" he said to the clerk. "They--they're a nice lot!"
"That's so," responded the clerk, handing him the reins and buttoning the leather apron. "But I can congratulate you on the purchase, Mihail Ignatitch?"
"Well, well..."