am gabbling away like this; I have only been hindering Mr. PanSHIN (she
never pronounced his name PANshin as was correct) from holding forth.
Besides, we'd better go and have tea; yes, let's go on to the terrace,
my boy, and drink it there; we have some real cream, not like what you
get in your Londons and Parises. Come along, come along, and you,
Fedusha, give me your arm. Oh! but what an arm it is! Upon my word, no
fear of my stumbling with you!"

Every one got up and went out on to the terrace, except Gedeonovsky, who
quietly took his departure. During the whole of Lavretsky's conversation
with Marya Dmitrievna, Panshin, and Marfa Timofyevna, he sat in a
corner, blinking attentively, with an open mouth of childish curiosity;
now he was in haste to spread the news of the new arrival through the
town.

At eleven o'clock on the evening of the same day, this is what was
happening in Madame Kalitin's house. Downstairs, Vladimir Nikolaitch,
seizing a favourable moment, was taking leave of Lisa at the
drawing-room door, and saying to her, as he held her hand, "You know who
it is draws me here; you know why I am constantly coming to your house;
what need of words when all is clear as it is?" Lisa did not speak, and
looked on the ground, without smiling, with her brows slightly
contracted, and a flush on her cheek, but she did not draw away her
hands. While up-stairs, in Marfa Timofyevna's room, by the light of a
little lamp hanging before the tarnished old holy images, Lavretsky was
sitting in a low chair, his elbows on his knees and his face buried in
his hands; the old woamn, standing before him, now and then silently
stroked his hair. He spent more than an hour with her, after taking
leave of his hostess; he had scarcely said anything to his kind old
friend, and she did not question him . . . . Indeed, what need to speak,