He assumed an expression of innocence, but his heart was heavy. He asked Kokovkina what they were saying and was afraid that he would hear it was something unpleasant. What could they be saying? Liudmillotchka's room faced the garden; it could not be seen from the street. Besides, Liudmillotchka always lowered the blinds. And if anyone had looked in, what could they say? Perhaps something annoying and insulting. Or perhaps they were only saying that he often went there.
And here on the next day Kokovkina received an invitation to go and see the Head-Master. The old woman was distraught. She did not even mention it to Sasha, but at the appointed time went quickly on her errand. Khripatch kindly and gently informed her of the anonymous letter he had received. She began to cry.
"Be calm, we're not accusing you of anything," said Khripatch. "We know you too well. Of course, you'll have to look after him a little more rigorously. But I want you to tell me now what actually has taken place."
Kokovkina came home with more reproaches for Sasha.
"I shall write to your aunt," she said, crying.
"I haven't done anything. Let Aunt come, I'm not afraid," said Sasha, and he began to cry also.
The next day Khripatch asked Sasha to come and see him and asked him dryly and sternly:
"I would like to know what sort of an acquaintance you have been cultivating in the town."
Sasha looked at the Head-Master with deceptive innocence and tranquil eyes.
"What sort of an acquaintance?" he said. "Olga Vassilyevna knows that I only go to my companions and to the Routilovs."