appeared before him, much agitated.
“I have long sought the honour and opportunity of meeting you—much-esteemed Lef Nicolaievitch,” he murmured, pressing the prince’s hand very hard, almost painfully so; “long—very long.”
The prince begged him to step in and sit down.
“No—I will not sit down—I am keeping you, I see—another time!—I think I may be permitted to congratulate you upon the realization of your heart’s best wishes, is it not so?”
“What best wishes?”
The prince blushed. He thought, as so many in his position do, that nobody had seen, heard, noticed, or understood anything.
“Oh—be easy, sir, be easy! I shall not wound your tenderest feelings. I’ve been through it all myself, and I know well how unpleasant it is when an outsider sticks his nose in where he is not wanted. I experience this every morning. I came to speak to you about another matter, though, an important matter. A very important matter, prince.”