“Yes, Grandmother. Take me with you sometimes, Ivan Ivanovich.”
“With pleasure, Vera Vassilievna, in winter. You have only to command.”
“That is just like her, not to mind what her Grandmother thinks.”
“I was joking, Grandmother.”
“I know you would be equal to it. Had you no scruples about hindering Ivan Ivanovich; this distance....”
“It is my fault. As soon as I heard from Natalie Ivanovna that Vera Vassilievna wanted to come home, I asked for the pleasure,” he said looking at Vera with a mixed air of modesty and respect.
“A nice pleasure in this weather.”
“It was lighter while we were driving, and Vera Vassilievna was not afraid.”
“Is Anna Ivanovna well?”
“Thank you. She sends her kindest regards, and has sent you some preserves, also some peaches out of the orangery, and mushrooms. They are in the char-à-banc.”