“It’s here, sir, here, sir,” he muttered cringingly; “it’s here, you’ve come right, you were coming to us …”
“Sne-gi-ryov?” the doctor said loudly and pompously. “ Mr. Snegiryov—is that you?”
“That’s me, sir!”
“Ah!”
The doctor looked round the room with a squeamish air once more and threw off his coat, displaying to all eyes the grand decoration at his neck. The captain caught the fur coat in the air, and the doctor took off his cap.
“Where is the patient?” he asked emphatically.
VI
Precocity
“What do you think the doctor will say to him?” Kolya asked quickly. “What a repulsive mug, though, hasn’t he? I can’t endure medicine!”
“Ilusha is dying. I think that’s certain,” answered Alyosha, mournfully.
“They are rogues! Medicine’s a fraud! I am glad to have made your acquaintance, though, Karamazov. I wanted to know you for a long time. I am only sorry we meet in such sad circumstances.”
Kolya had a great inclination to say something even warmer and more demonstrative, but he felt ill at ease. Alyosha noticed this, smiled, and pressed his hand.