iChina.com

"I am--the owner of the neighbouring estates, and should like to speak to you." "Dear me; why, it's you, my honey; and I, fool, thought it was just some passer-by. Dear me, you--it's you, my precious," said the old woman, with simulated tenderness in her voice. "I should like to speak to you alone," said Nekhludoff, with a glance towards the door, where the children were standing, and behind them a woman holding a wasted, pale baby, with a sickly smile on its face, who had a little cap made of different bits of stuff on its head. "What are you staring at? I'll give it you. Just hand me my crutch," the old woman shouted to those at the door. "Shut the door, will you!" The children went away, and the woman closed the door. "And I was thinking, who's that? And it's 'the master' himself. My jewel, my treasure. Just think," said the old woman, "where he has deigned to come. Sit down here, your honour," she said, wiping the seat with her apron. "And I was thinking what devil is it coming in, and it's your honour, 'the master' himself, the good gentleman, our benefactor. Forgive me, old fool that I am; I'm getting blind." Nekhludoff sat down, and the old woman stood in front of him, leaning her cheek on her right hand, while the left held up the sharp elbow of her right arm. "Dear me, you have grown old, your honour; and you used to be as fresh as a daisy. And now! Cares also, I expect?" "This is what I have come about: Do you remember Katusha Maslova?" "Katerina? I should think so. Why, she is my niece. How could I help remembering; and the tears I have shed because of her.