“That’s impossible. Zhutchka’s nonexistent. Zhutchka is lost in the mists of obscurity.”
“Ah! couldn’t we do this?” Smurov suddenly stood still. “You see Ilusha says that Zhutchka was a shaggy, grayish, smoky-looking dog like Perezvon. Couldn’t you tell him this is Zhutchka, and he might believe you?”
“Boy, shun a lie, that’s one thing; even with a good object—that’s another. Above all, I hope you’ve not told them anything about my coming.”
“Heaven forbid! I know what I am about. But you won’t comfort him with Perezvon,” said Smurov, with a sigh. “You know his father, the captain, ‘the wisp of tow,’ told us that he was going to bring him a real mastiff pup, with a black nose, today. He thinks that would comfort Ilusha; but I doubt it.”
“And how is Ilusha?”
“Ah, he is bad, very bad! I believe he’s in consumption: