“And what time of day does the lady receive?” the latter asked, reseating himself in his old place.
“Oh, that’s not in my province! I believe she receives at any time; it depends upon the visitors. The dressmaker goes in at eleven. Gavrila Ardalionovitch is allowed much earlier than other people, too; he is even admitted to early lunch now and then.”
“It is much warmer in the rooms here than it is abroad at this season,” observed the prince; “but it is much warmer there out of doors. As for the houses—a Russian can’t live in them in the winter until he gets accustomed to them.”
“Don’t they heat them at all?”
“Well, they do heat them a little; but the houses and stoves are so different to ours.”
“H’m! were you long away?”
“Four years! and I was in the same place nearly all the time—in one village.”
“You must have forgotten Russia, hadn’t you?”
“Yes, indeed I had—a good deal; and, would you believe it, I often wonder at myself for not having forgotten how to speak Russian? Even now, as I talk to you, I keep saying to myself ‘how well I am speaking it.’ Perhaps that is partly why I am so talkative this morning. I assure you, ever since yesterday evening I have had the strongest desire to go on and on talking Russian.”
“H’m! yes; did you live in Petersburg in former years?”
This good flunkey, in spite of his conscientious scruples, really could not resist continuing such a very genteel and agreeable conversation.