“Ah, then there’s only five minutes before the train starts. I don’t want the group here to break up, you know. I am not afraid; don’t be anxious about me. I have plenty of such centres, and it’s not much consequence; but there’s no harm in having as many centres as possible. But I am quite at ease about you, though I am leaving you almost alone with those idiots. Don’t be uneasy; they won’t turn traitor, they won’t have the pluck.⁠ ⁠… Ha ha, you going today too?” he cried suddenly in a quite different, cheerful voice to a very young man, who came up gaily to greet him. “I didn’t know you were going by the express too. Where are you off to⁠ ⁠… your mother’s?”

The mother of the young man was a very wealthy landowner in a neighbouring province, and the young man was a distant relation of Yulia Mihailovna’s and had been staying about a fortnight in our town.

“No, I am going farther, to R⁠⸺. I’ve eight hours to live through in the train. Off to Petersburg?” laughed the young man.