childhood’s friend, Nicolai Petrovitch.”
“My father’s name was Nicolai Lvovitch.”
“Lvovitch,” repeated the general without the slightest haste, and with perfect confidence, just as though he had not committed himself the least in the world, but merely made a little slip of the tongue.
He sat down, and taking the prince’s hand, drew him to a seat next to himself.
“I carried you in my arms as a baby,” he observed.
“Really?” asked the prince. “Why, it’s twenty years since my father died.”
“Yes, yes — twenty years and three