“They can’t do anything⁠ ⁠… always make some muddle,” he muttered.

While he was away Princess Márya, Dessalles, Mademoiselle Bourienne, and even little Nikolúshka exchanged looks in silence. The old prince returned with quick steps, accompanied by Mikháil Ivánovich, bringing the letter and a plan. These he put down beside him⁠—not letting anyone read them at dinner.

On moving to the drawing room he handed the letter to Princess Márya and, spreading out before him the plan of the new building and fixing his eyes upon it, told her to read the letter aloud. When she had done so Princess Márya looked inquiringly at her father. He was examining the plan, evidently engrossed in his own ideas.

“What do you think of it, Prince?” Dessalles ventured to ask.

“I? I?⁠ ⁠…” said the prince as if unpleasantly awakened, and not taking his eyes from the plan of the building.