“Stepan Trofimovitch,” Sofya Matveyevna asked timidly, “hadn’t I better send to the town for the doctor?”

He was tremendously taken aback.

“What for? Est-ce que je suis si malade? Mais rien de sérieux. What need have we of outsiders? They may find, besides⁠—and what will happen then? No, no, no outsiders and we’ll be together.”

“Do you know,” he said after a pause, “read me something more, just the first thing you come across.”

Sofya Matveyevna opened the Testament and began reading.

“Wherever it opens, wherever it happens to open,” he repeated.

“ ‘And unto the angel of the church of the Laodiceans⁠ ⁠…’ ”

“What’s that? What is it? Where is that from?”