“Yes, go, go,” said he; “God bless you. Yes. I’ll come again tomorrow, and we will decide. Goodbye, my darling—goodbye.” Again he found it hard to swallow the lump in his throat.
When Michael Ivanovich returned to his brother’s house, Alexandra Dmitrievna immediately rushed to him.
“Well?”
“Well? Nothing.”
“Have you seen?” she asked, guessing from his expression that something had happened.
“Yes,” he answered shortly, and began to cry. “I’m getting old and stupid,” said he, mastering his emotion.
“No; you are growing wise—very wise.”