After a while Porfiry Vladimirych came out clad all in black, in clean linen, as if prepared for a solemn occasion. His countenance was radiant, glowing, breathing meekness and joy, as if he had just been at communion. He approached his son, made the sign of the cross over him, and then kissed him. "Good morning, friend," he said. "Good morning." "Did you sleep well? Was your bed made properly? Were there no little fleas and bedbugs to bother you?" "Thank you. I slept well." "Well, thanks to God, if you slept well. It's only at one's parents' home that one can sleep really well. I know it from my own experience. No matter how comfortable I might be at St. Petersburg, I could never sleep so well as at Golovliovo. You feel just as if you were rocked in a cradle. So what are we going to do? Shall we have some tea first, or do you want to say something now?" "Let's talk it over now. I have to leave in six hours, and maybe we'll need some time for deliberation." "Oh, well. But, my dear, I tell you directly, I never deliberate, my answer is always ready. If your request is a proper one, well, I never refuse anything proper. It may be hard on me at times, and I can't always afford it, but if it is proper, I can't refuse it. That's the kind of man I am. But if you ask for something that isn't right, I am sorry. Though I feel for you, I shall have to refuse. You observe, my son, I have no underhand ways. I am exactly as you see me. Well, then, let's go into the study. Speak and I will listen. Let's hear, let's hear what the matter is." On entering the study, Porfiry left the door ajar and instead of seating himself and asking his son to be seated, he began pacing the room, as if instinctively feeling that the matter was delicate and it would be easier to discuss it while walking. The expression of one's face may be more easily concealed, and if the conversation takes a disagreeable turn it may be more readily cut off, and the door half ajar makes it possible to appeal to witnesses; for mother dear and Yevpraksia were sure to come into the dining-room before long to have tea. "Papa," blurted out Petenka, "I lost some crown money at cards." Yudushka said nothing, but his lips quivered, and he immediately fell to muttering, as was his habit. "I lost three thousand," explained Petenka, "and if I don't return the money the day after tomorrow, there may be very disagreeable consequences for me." "Well, refund the money," said Porfiry Vladimirych affably. Father and son made a few turns around the room in silence. Petenka wished to make further explanations, but felt a lump rising in his throat. "Yes, but where am I to get the money from?" he said at last. "My dear friend, I don't know your resources. Pay it back from the resources you figured on when you gambled crown money away." "You know very well that in such cases people forget about their resources."