Again Liza glanced at him.
"Now you see yourself, Feódor Ivánitch, that happiness does not depend upon us, but upon God."
"Yes, because you...."
The door of the adjoining room opened swiftly, and Márfa Timoféevna entered, with her cap in her hand.
"I have found it at last,"—she said, taking up her stand between Lavrétzky and Liza.—"I had mislaid it myself. That's what it is to be old, alack! However, youth is no better. Well, and art thou going to Lavríki thyself, with thy wife?"—she added, addressing Feódor Ivánitch.
"With her, to Lavríki?—I do not know,"—he said, after a pause.
"Thou art not going down-stairs?"
"Well, very good, as it pleases thee; but I think thou shouldst go down-stairs, Liza. Akh, gracious goodness!—and I have forgotten to give the bullfinch his food. Just wait, I'll be back directly...."
And Márfa Timoféevna ran out of the room, without putting on her cap.