further details; and the prince once more repeated the conversation. Gania looked at him with ironical contempt the while.
“Nastasia Philipovna,” he began, and there paused; he was clearly much agitated and annoyed. The prince reminded him of the portrait.
“Listen, prince,” said Gania, as though an idea had just struck him, “I wish to ask you a great favour, and yet I really don’t know — ”
He paused again, he was trying to make up his mind to something, and was turning the matter over.
The prince waited quietly. Once more Gania fixed him with intent and questioning eyes.
“Prince,” he began again,