Page 157 - the-idiot

He did not finish his sentence, for at this moment Fer-
dishenko pushed a chair up from behind, and the general,
not very firm on his legs, at this post-prandial hour, flopped
into it backwards. It was always a difficult thing to put this
warrior to confusion, and his sudden descent left him as
composed as before. He had sat down just opposite to Nas-
tasia, whose fingers he now took, and raised to his lips with
great elegance, and much courtesy. The general had once
belonged to a very select circle of society, but he had been
turned out of it two or three years since on account of cer-
tain weaknesses, in which he now indulged with all the less
restraint; but his good manners remained with him to this
day, in spite of all.
Nastasia Philipovna seemed delighted at the appearance
of this latest arrival, of whom she had of course heard a
good deal by report.
‘I have heard that my son—‘ began Ardalion Alexandro-
vitch.
‘Your son, indeed! A nice papa you are! YOU might have
come to see me anyhow, without compromising anyone. Do
you hide yourself, or does your son hide you?’
‘The children of the nineteenth century, and their par-
ents—‘ began the general, again.
‘Nastasia Philipovna, will you excuse the general for a
moment? Someone is inquiring for him,’ said Nina Alexan-
drovna in a loud voice, interrupting the conversation.
‘Excuse him? Oh no, I have wished to see him too long for
that. Why, what business can he have? He has retired, hasn’t
he? You won’t leave me, general, will you?’

1 The Idiot