he exclaimed, “I—there’s nothing the matter,” he turned suddenly to Grushenka, who had shrunk back in her chair towards Kalganov, and clasped his hand tightly. “I … I’m coming, too. I’m here till morning. Gentlemen, may I stay with you till morning? Only till morning, for the last time, in this same room?”
So he finished, turning to the fat little man, with the pipe, sitting on the sofa. The latter removed his pipe from his lips with dignity and observed severely:
“ Panie , we’re here in private. There are other rooms.”
“Why, it’s you, Dmitri Fyodorovitch! What do you mean?” answered Kalganov suddenly. “Sit down with us. How are you?”
“Delighted to see you, dear … and precious fellow, I always thought a lot of you.” Mitya responded, joyfully and eagerly, at once holding out his hand across