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His
manners
are
excellent
--
but
here
he
is
himself
.
Here
you
are
,
prince
--
let
me
introduce
you
,
the
last
of
the
Muishkins
,
a
relative
of
your
own
,
my
dear
,
or
at
least
of
the
same
name
.
Receive
him
kindly
,
please
.
They
'll
bring
in
lunch
directly
,
prince
;
you
must
stop
and
have
some
,
but
you
must
excuse
me
.
I
'm
in
a
hurry
,
I
must
be
off
--
"
"
We
all
know
where
you
must
be
off
to
!
"
said
Mrs.
Epanchin
,
in
a
meaning
voice
.
"
Yes
,
yes
--
I
must
hurry
away
,
I
'm
late
!
Look
here
,
dears
,
let
him
write
you
something
in
your
albums
;
you
've
no
idea
what
a
wonderful
caligraphist
he
is
,
wonderful
talent
!
He
has
just
written
out
'
Abbot
Pafnute
signed
this
'
for
me
.
Well
,
au
revoir
!
"
"
Stop
a
minute
;
where
are
you
off
to
?
Who
is
this
abbot
?
"
cried
Mrs.
Epanchin
to
her
retreating
husband
in
a
tone
of
excited
annoyance
.
"
Yes
,
my
dear
,
it
was
an
old
abbot
of
that
name
--
I
must
be
off
to
see
the
count
,
he
's
waiting
for
me
,
I
'm
late
--
Good-bye
!
Au
revoir
,
prince
!
"
--
and
the
general
bolted
at
full
speed
.
"
Oh
,
yes
--
I
know
what
count
you
're
going
to
see
!
"
remarked
his
wife
in
a
cutting
manner
,
as
she
turned
her
angry
eyes
on
the
prince
.
"
Now
then
,
what
's
all
this
about
?
--
What
abbot
--
Who
's
Pafnute
?
"
she
added
,
brusquely
.
"
Mamma
!
"
said
Alexandra
,
shocked
at
her
rudeness
.
Aglaya
stamped
her
foot
.
"
Nonsense
!
Let
me
alone
!
"
said
the
angry
mother
.
"
Now
then
,
prince
,
sit
down
here
,
no
,
nearer
,
come
nearer
the
light
!
I
want
to
have
a
good
look
at
you
.
So
,
now
then
,
who
is
this
abbot
?
"
