He declared, further, that he had intended to go every day, but had always been prevented by circumstances; but that now he would promise himself the pleasure⁠—however far it was, he would find them out. And so Ivan Petrovitch really knew Natalia Nikitishna!⁠—what a saintly nature was hers!⁠—and Martha Nikitishna! Ivan Petrovitch must excuse him, but really he was not quite fair on dear old Martha. She was severe, perhaps; but then what else could she be with such a little idiot as he was then? (Ha, ha.) He really was an idiot then, Ivan Petrovitch must know, though he might not believe it. (Ha, ha.) So he had really seen him there! Good heavens! And was he really and truly and actually a cousin of Pavlicheff’s?

“I assure you of it,” laughed Ivan Petrovitch, gazing amusedly at the prince.