I took my hat.

“We’ve only been sitting her half an hour, and how many questions we have settled, when you come to think of it!” said Orlov, seeing me into the hall. “So I will see to that matter…I will see Pekarsky to- day…Don’t be uneasy.”

He stood waiting while I put on my coat, and was obviously relieved at the feeling that I was going away.

“Georgy Ivanitch, give me back my letter,” I said.

“Certainly.”

He went to his study, and a minute later returned with the letter. I thanked him and went away.

The next day I got a letter from him. He congratulated me on the satisfactory settlement of the question. Pekarsky knew a lady, he wrote, who kept a school, something like a kindergarten, where she took quite little children. The lady could be entirely depended upon, but before concluding anything with her it would be as well to discuss the matter with Krasnovsky—it was a matter of form. He advised me to see Pekarsky at once and to take the birth certificate with me, if I had it. “Rest assured of the sincere respect and devotion of your humble servant.…”

I read this letter, and Sonya sat on the table and gazed at me attentively without blinking, as though she knew her fate was being decided.

1893