“Yes.”
“I should be afraid in your room at night,” he observed gloomily.
“They are very good people, very kind,” answered Sonia, who still seemed bewildered, “and all the furniture, everything … everything is theirs. And they are very kind and the children, too, often come to see me.”
“They all stammer, don’t they?”
“Yes. … He stammers and he’s lame. And his wife, too. … It’s not exactly that she stammers, but she can’t speak plainly. She is a very kind woman. And he used to be a house serf. And there are seven children … and it’s only the eldest one that stammers and the others are simply ill … but they don’t stammer. … But where did you hear about them?” she added with some surprise.
“Your father told me, then. He told me all about you. … And how you went out at six o’clock and came back at nine and how Katerina Ivanovna knelt down by your bed.”
Sonia was confused.
“I fancied I saw him today,” she whispered hesitatingly.
“Whom?”
“Father. I was walking in the street, out there at the corner, about ten o’clock and he seemed to be walking in front. It looked just like him. I wanted to go to Katerina Ivanovna. …”
“You were walking in the streets?”
“Yes,” Sonia whispered abruptly, again overcome with confusion and looking down.