This swift and sudden fulfilment of my secret desire at once delighted and alarmed me. I did not, however, show any sign of my inner turmoil; I went first to my room in order to put on my new neck-tie and frock-coat: at home I still went about in a short jacket and turned-down collar – which I simply hated.

4

In the poky and untidy hall of the lodge, which I entered trembling in every limb, I was met by a grey-haired old servant with a face the colour of dark copper, surly little pig’s eyes, and the deepest wrinkles on his forehead and temples I had ever seen in my life. He was carrying a plate on which there was a half-picked herring bone; shutting the door which led into the other room with his foot, he snapped: ‘What do you want?’

‘Is the Princess Zasyekin at home?’ I asked.

‘Vonifaty!’ a cracked female voice screamed from within.

The servant turned without a word, revealing as he did so the threadbare back of his livery with a solitary rusted crested button; he went away, leaving the plate on the floor.

‘Have you been to the police station?’ said the same female voice. The servant muttered something in reply. ‘Eh? Is there somebody there?’ said the voice again.

‘ The young gentleman from next door.’

‘Well, show him in.’

‘Will you step into the drawing-room, sir,’ said the servant, reappearing and picking up the plate from the floor. I collected myself and went into the drawing-room. I found myself in a small and not very tidy room. The furniture was shabby and looked as if no one had bothered to arrange it. By the window, in an armchair with a broken arm, sat a woman of about fifty, plain, her hair uncovered, in an old green dress with a gaudy worsted shawl round her neck; her small, black eyes pierced into me. I went up to her and bowed. ‘Have I the honour to address the Princess Zasyekin?’

‘I am Princess Zasyekin. And you are the son of Mr V--?’

‘That is so, ma’am. I have come to you with a message from my mother.’

‘Won’t you sit down? Vonifaty, where are my keys? You haven’t seen them, have you?’

I conveyed to Mme Zasyekin my mother’s reply to her note. She listened to me, drumming upon the window-sill with her fat, red fingers, and when I had finished, once again fixed her eyes upon me.

‘Very good. I’ll be sure to call,’ she remarked at last. ‘But how young you are! How old are you, if I might ask?’

‘Sixteen,’ I replied with a slight falter. The princess extracted from her pocket a bundle of greasy papers covered with writing, lifted them to her nose and began going through them.

‘A good age,’ she suddenly observed, turning and shifting in her chair. ‘Please make yourself at home! We are very simple here.’

‘Too simple,’ I could not help thinking with disgust, as I took in her unsightly figure.

At that instant, another door flew open and in the doorway there appeared the girl I had seen in the garden the evening before. She lifted her hand, and a mocking smile flitted across her face. ‘And here’s my daughter,’ said the princess, indicating her with her elbow. ‘Zinochka, the son of our neighbour, Mr V--. What is your name, if I might ask?’

‘Vladimir,’ I replied, rising, and stuttering from sheer excitement.

‘And your patronym?’

‘Petrovich.’

‘Yes, I once knew a Chief Constable. He was Vladimir Petrovich too. Vonifaty, don’t look for the keys. They are in my pocket.’

The young woman continued to look at me with the same mocking smile, narrowing her eyes a little, and inclining her head slightly.

‘I have already seen Monsieur Woldemar,’ she began (the silver sound of her voice ran through me with a sort of sweet shiver). ‘You will let me call you so?’

‘Do, please,’ I stammered.

‘Where was that?’ asked the princess. Her daughter did not answer.

‘Are you busy at this moment?’ the young woman asked, without taking her eyes off me.

‘Oh no, no.’

‘Would you like to help me wind my wool? Come with me.’ She gave me a little nod and left the drawing-room. I followed her.

In the room we entered, the furniture was a little better and arranged with more taste; though actually, at that moment, I was scarcely able to notice anything. I moved as in a dream, and felt through my entire being an intense, almost imbecile, sense of well-being. The young princess sat down, took a skein of red wool, and pointing to a chair beside her, carefully undid the skein and laid it across my hands.