“It’s extraordinary!” Navagin thought in perplexity, as he paced about the study. “It’s strange and incomprehensible! It’s like sorcery!”
“Call the porter here!” he shouted.
“It’s devilish queer! But I will find out who he is!”
“I say, Grigory,” he said, addressing the porter as he entered, “that Fedyukov has signed his name again! Did you see him?”
“No, your Excellency.”
“Upon my word, but he has signed his name! So he must have been in the hall. Has he been?”
“No, he hasn’t, your Excellency.”
“How could he have signed his name without being there?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Who is to tell, then? You sit gaping there in the hall. Try and remember, perhaps someone you didn’t know came in? Think a minute!”