“Look here, Aglaya⁠—” began the general.

“This⁠—this is going beyond all limits!” said Lizabetha Prokofievna, suddenly alarmed.

“It is not in the least beyond all limits, mamma!” said her daughter, firmly. “I sent the prince a hedgehog this morning, and I wish to hear his opinion of it. Go on, prince.”

“What⁠—what sort of opinion, Aglaya Ivanovna?”

“About the hedgehog.”

“That is⁠—I suppose you wish to know how I received the hedgehog, Aglaya Ivanovna⁠—or, I should say, how I regarded your sending him to me? In that case, I may tell you⁠—in a word⁠—that I⁠—in fact⁠—”

He paused, breathless.