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the prince’s pardon. There I we don’t often get that sort of
letter; and yet we are not ashamed to walk with our noses
in the air before him.’
‘And Hippolyte has come down here to stay,’ said Colia,
suddenly.
‘What! has he arrived?’ said the prince, starting up.
‘Yes, I brought him down from town just after you had
left the house.’
‘There now! It’s just like him,’ cried Lizabetha Prokofiev-
na, boiling over once more, and entirely oblivious of the fact
that she had just taken the prince’s part. ‘I dare swear that
you went up to town yesterday on purpose to get the little
wretch to do you the great honour of coming to stay at your
house. You did go up to town, you know you did—you said
so yourself! Now then, did you, or did you not, go down on
your knees and beg him to come, confess!’
‘No, he didn’t, for I saw it all myself,’ said Colia. ‘On the
contrary, Hippolyte kissed his hand twice and thanked
him; and all the prince said was that he thought Hippolyte
might feel better here in the country!’
‘Don’t, Colia,—what is the use of saying all that?’ cried
the prince, rising and taking his hat.
‘Where are you going to now?’ cried Mrs. Epanchin.
‘Never mind about him now, prince,’ said Colia. ‘He is all
right and taking a nap after the journey. He is very happy to
be here; but I think perhaps it would be better if you let him
alone for today,—he is very sensitive now that he is so ill—
and he might be embarrassed if you show him too much
attention at first. He is decidedly better today, and says he
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