“Wait, haven’t you dropped it?” said Rostóv, picking up the pillows one at a time and shaking them.

He pulled off the quilt and shook it. The purse was not there.

“Dear me, can I have forgotten? No, I remember thinking that you kept it under your head like a treasure,” said Rostóv. “I put it just here. Where is it?” he asked, turning to Lavrúshka.

“I haven’t been in the room. It must be where you put it.”

“But it isn’t?⁠ ⁠…”

“You’re always like that; you thwow a thing down anywhere and forget it. Feel in your pockets.”

“No, if I hadn’t thought of it being a treasure,” said Rostóv, “but I remember putting it there.”