“Here are twenty-five roubles, Marfa Borisovna⁠ ⁠… it is all that I can give⁠ ⁠… and I owe even these to the prince’s generosity⁠—my noble friend. I have been cruelly deceived. Such is⁠ ⁠… life⁠ ⁠… Now⁠ ⁠… Excuse me, I am very weak,” he continued, standing in the centre of the room, and bowing to all sides. “I am faint; excuse me! Lenotchka⁠ ⁠… a cushion⁠ ⁠… my dear!”

Lenotchka, a little girl of eight, ran to fetch the cushion at once, and placed it on the rickety old sofa. The general meant to have said much more, but as soon as he had stretched himself out, he turned his face to the wall, and slept the sleep of the just.

With a grave and ceremonious air, Marfa Borisovna motioned the prince to a chair at one of the card-tables. She seated herself opposite, leaned her right cheek on her hand, and sat in silence, her eyes fixed on Muishkin, now and again sighing deeply. The three children, two little girls and a boy, Lenotchka being the eldest, came and leant on the table and also stared steadily at him. Presently Colia appeared from the adjoining room.