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Lizabetha
Prokofievna
stood
like
a
stone
.
"
What
did
she
send
?
Whom
?
Was
it
that
boy
?
Was
it
a
message
?
--
quick
!
"
"
I
had
a
note
,
"
said
the
prince
.
"
Where
is
it
?
Give
it
here
,
at
once
.
"
The
prince
thought
a
moment
.
Then
he
pulled
out
of
his
waistcoat
pocket
an
untidy
slip
of
paper
,
on
which
was
scrawled
:
"
Prince
Lef
Nicolaievitch
,
--
If
you
think
fit
,
after
all
that
has
passed
,
to
honour
our
house
with
a
visit
,
I
can
assure
you
you
will
not
find
me
among
the
number
of
those
who
are
in
any
way
delighted
to
see
you
.
"
Aglaya
Epanchin
.
"
Mrs.
Epanchin
reflected
a
moment
.
The
next
minute
she
flew
at
the
prince
,
seized
his
hand
,
and
dragged
him
after
her
to
the
door
"
Quick
--
come
along
!
"
she
cried
,
breathless
with
agitation
and
impatience
.
"
Come
along
with
me
this
moment
!
"
"
But
you
declared
I
was
n't
--
"
