“Nastasia Philipovna, will you excuse the general for a moment? Someone is inquiring for him,” said Nina Alexandrovna in a loud voice, interrupting the conversation.
“Excuse him? Oh no, I have wished to see him too long for that. Why, what business can he have? He has retired, hasn’t he? You won’t leave me, general, will you?”
“I give you my word that he shall come and see you—but he—he needs rest just now.”
“General, they say you require rest,” said Nastasia Philipovna, with the melancholy face of a child whose toy is taken away.
Ardalion Alexandrovitch immediately did his best to make his foolish position a great deal worse.
“My dear, my dear!” he said, solemnly and reproachfully, looking at his wife, with one hand on his heart.
“Won’t you leave the room, mamma?” asked Varia, aloud.
“No, Varia, I shall sit it out to the end.”
Nastasia must have overheard both question and reply, but her vivacity was not in the least damped. On the contrary, it seemed to increase. She immediately overwhelmed the general once more with questions, and within five minutes that gentleman was as happy as a king, and holding forth at the top of his voice, amid the laughter of almost all who heard him.
Colia jogged the prince’s arm.
“Can’t you get him out of the room, somehow? Do , please,” and tears of annoyance stood in the boy’s eyes. “Curse that Gania!” he muttered, between his teeth.