Prince Vasíli looked questioningly at the princess, but could not make out whether she was considering what he had just said or whether she was simply looking at him.

“There is one thing I constantly pray God to grant, mon cousin ,” she replied, “and it is that He would be merciful to him and would allow his noble soul peacefully to leave this⁠ ⁠…”

“Yes, yes, of course,” interrupted Prince Vasíli impatiently, rubbing his bald head and angrily pulling back toward him the little table that he had pushed away. “But⁠ ⁠… in short, the fact is⁠ ⁠… you know yourself that last winter the count made a will by which he left all his property, not to us his direct heirs, but to Pierre.”

“He has made wills enough!” quietly remarked the princess. “But he cannot leave the estate to Pierre. Pierre is illegitimate.”