Page 184 - the-idiot

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olia took the prince to a public-house in the Litayna-
Cya, not far off. In one of the side rooms there sat at a
table—looking like one of the regular guests of the estab-
lishment—Ardalion Alexandrovitch, with a bottle before
him, and a newspaper on his knee. He was waiting for the
prince, and no sooner did the latter appear than he began
a long harangue about something or other; but so far gone
was he that the prince could hardly understand a word.
‘I have not got a ten-rouble note,’ said the prince; ‘but
here is a twenty-five. Change it and give me back the fifteen,
or I shall be left without a farthing myself.’
‘Oh, of course, of course; and you quite understand that
I—‘
‘Yes; and I have another request to make, general. Have
you ever been at Nastasia Philipovna’s?’
‘I? I? Do you mean me? Often, my friend, often! I only
pretended I had not in order to avoid a painful subject. You
saw today, you were a witness, that I did all that a kind, an
indulgent father could do. Now a father of altogether an-
other type shall step into the scene. You shall see; the old
soldier shall lay bare this intrigue, or a shameless woman
will force her way into a respectable and noble family.’
‘Yes, quite so. I wished to ask you whether you could
show me the way to Nastasia Philipovna’s tonight. I must

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