“I know nothing about it.”
“Stop a minute! When will he come back?”
“I don’t know that either.”
The door was shut with these words, and the old woman disappeared. The prince decided to come back within an hour. Passing out of the house, he met the porter.
“Is Parfen Semionovitch at home?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Why did they tell me he was not at home, then?”
“Where did they tell you so—at his door?”
“No, at his mother’s flat; I rang at Parfen Semionovitch’s door and nobody came.”
“Well, he may have gone out. I can’t tell. Sometimes he takes the keys with him, and leaves the rooms empty for two or three days.”
“Do you know for certain that he was at home last night?”
“Yes, he was.”
“Was Nastasia Philipovna with him?”
“I don’t know; she doesn’t come often. I think I should have known if she had come.”
The prince went out deep in thought, and walked up and down the pavement for some time. The windows of all the rooms occupied by Rogojin were closed, those of his mother’s apartments were open. It was