all gathered in the reception hall: Mikháil Ivánovich, Mademoiselle Bourienne, Princess Márya, and the little princess. Prince Andréy had been called to his father’s study as the latter wished to say goodbye to him alone. All were waiting for them to come out.
When Prince Andréy entered the study the old man in his old-age spectacles and white dressing gown, in which he received no one but his son, sat at the table writing. He glanced round.
“Going?” And he went on writing.
“I’ve come to say goodbye.”
“Kiss me here,” and he touched his cheek: “Thanks, thanks!”
“What do you thank me for?”
“For not dillydallying and not hanging to a woman’s apron strings. The Service before everything. Thanks, thanks!” And he went on writing, so that his quill spluttered and squeaked. “If you have anything to say, say