"Did he stay long with you?" "About an hour. He asked me to introduce him to Olympiáda Nikítichna." "And did you introduce him?" "Certainly." "And did he make acquaintance with Lizavéta Kiríllovna?...." "Yes, he made her acquaintance, of course." I said nothing for a while. "Has he come to remain long, do you know?" "Yes, I think he will be obliged to stay here more than a fortnight." And Kiríll Matvyéevitch ran off to dress. I paced up and down the hall several times. I do not remember that Prince N***'s arrival produced any special impression on me at the time, except that unpleasant sensation which usually takes possession of us at the appearance of a new face in our domestic circle. Perhaps that feeling was mingled with something in the nature of envy of the timid and obscure Moscow man for the brilliant officer from Petersburg.--"The Prince,"--I thought,--"is a dandy of the capital; he will look down on us."... I had not seen him for more than a minute, but I had managed to note that he was handsome, alert, and easy-mannered. After pacing the hall for a while, I came to a halt, at last, in front of a mirror, pulled from my pocket a tiny comb, imparted to my hair a picturesque disorder and, as sometimes happens, suddenly became engrossed in the contemplation of my own visage. I remember that my attention was concentrated with particular solicitude on my nose; the rather flabby and undefined outline of that feature was affording me no special gratification--when, all of a sudden, in the dark depths of the inclined glass, which reflected almost the entire room, the door opened, and the graceful figure of Liza made its appearance. I do not know why I did not stir and kept the same expression on my face. Liza craned her head forward, gazed attentively at me and, elevating her eyebrows, biting her lips, and holding her breath, like a person who is delighted that he has not been seen, cautiously retreated, and softly drew the door to after her. The door creaked faintly. Liza shuddered, and stood stock-still on the spot.... I did not move.... Again she pulled at the door-handle, and disappeared. There was no possibility of doubt: the expression of Liza's face at the sight of my person denoted nothing except a desire to beat a successful retreat, to avoid an unpleasant meeting; the swift gleam of pleasure which I succeeded in detecting in her eyes, when she thought that she really had succeeded in escaping unperceived,--all that said but too clearly: that young girl was not in love with me. For a long, long time I could not withdraw my gaze from the motionless, dumb door, which again presented itself as a white spot in the depths of the mirror; I tried to smile at my own upright figure--hung my head, returned home, and flung myself on the divan. I felt remarkably heavy at heart, so heavy that I could not weep .... and what was there to weep about?.... "Can it be?"--I kept reiterating