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"
My
darling
,
my
little
idol
,
"
cried
the
general
,
kissing
and
fondling
her
hands
(
Aglaya
did
not
draw
them
away
)
;
"
so
you
love
this
young
man
,
do
you
?
"
"
No
,
no
,
no
,
ca
n't
bear
him
,
I
ca
n't
bear
your
young
man
!
"
cried
Aglaya
,
raising
her
head
.
"
And
if
you
dare
say
that
once
more
,
papa
--
I
'm
serious
,
you
know
,
I
'm
,
--
do
you
hear
me
--
I
'm
serious
!
"
She
certainly
did
seem
to
be
serious
enough
.
She
had
flushed
up
all
over
and
her
eyes
were
blazing
.
The
general
felt
troubled
and
remained
silent
,
while
Lizabetha
Prokofievna
telegraphed
to
him
from
behind
Aglaya
to
ask
no
questions
.
"
If
that
's
the
case
,
darling
--
then
,
of
course
,
you
shall
do
exactly
as
you
like
.
He
is
waiting
alone
downstairs
.
Had
n't
I
better
hint
to
him
gently
that
he
can
go
?
"
The
general
telegraphed
to
Lizabetha
Prokofievna
in
his
turn
.
"
No
,
no
,
you
need
n't
do
anything
of
the
sort
;
you
must
n't
hint
gently
at
all
.
I
'll
go
down
myself
directly
.
I
wish
to
apologize
to
this
young
man
,
because
I
hurt
his
feelings
.
"
"
Yes
,
seriously
,
"
said
the
general
,
gravely
.
"
Well
,
you
'd
better
stay
here
,
all
of
you
,
for
a
little
,
and
I
'll
go
down
to
him
alone
to
begin
with
.
I
'll
just
go
in
and
then
you
can
follow
me
almost
at
once
.
That
's
the
best
way
.
"
She
had
almost
reached
the
door
when
she
turned
round
again
.
