“Ach, what are you saying, Dounia! Don’t be angry, please, Rodya.⁠ ⁠… Why did you say that, Dounia?” Pulcheria Alexandrovna began, overwhelmed⁠—“You see, coming here, I was dreaming all the way, in the train, how we should meet, how we should talk over everything together.⁠ ⁠… And I was so happy, I did not notice the journey! But what am I saying? I am happy now.⁠ ⁠… You should not, Dounia.⁠ ⁠… I am happy now⁠—simply in seeing you, Rodya.⁠ ⁠…”

“Hush, mother,” he muttered in confusion, not looking at her, but pressing her hand. “We shall have time to speak freely of everything!”