this state of things was highly improper. His conclusion was that one of two things must be the explanation—either that this was a begging impostor, or that the prince, if prince he were, was simply a fool, without the slightest ambition; for a sensible prince with any ambition would certainly not wait about in anterooms with servants, and talk of his own private affairs like this. In either case, how was he to announce this singular visitor?
“I really think I must request you to step into the next room!” he said, with all the insistence he could muster.
“Why? If I had been sitting there now, I should not have had the opportunity of making these personal explanations. I see you are still uneasy about me and keep eyeing my cloak and bundle. Don’t you think you might go in yourself now, without waiting for the secretary to come out?”
“No, no! I can’t announce a visitor like yourself without the secretary. Besides the general said he was not to be disturbed—he is with the Colonel C⸺. Gavrila Ardalionovitch goes in without announcing.”
“Who may that be? a clerk?”
“What? Gavrila Ardalionovitch? Oh no; he belongs to one of the companies. Look here, at all events put your bundle down, here.”
“Yes, I will if I may; and—can I take off my cloak?”
“Of course; you can’t go in there with it on, anyhow.”
The prince rose and took off his mantle, revealing a neat enough morning costume—a little worn, but well made. He wore a steel watch chain and from this chain there hung a silver Geneva watch. Fool the prince might be, still, the general’s servant felt that it was not correct for him to continue to converse thus with a visitor, in spite of the fact that the prince pleased him somehow.