"But I am ready to give you still more, with pleasure!"—I replied in confusion.
"What for? Please don't disturb yourself—much obliged for your good-will, but we still have a crust of bread. And perhaps we sha'n't eat that up—that 's as it may happen."
And he rose, and put out his hand to the wicket-gate.
"Stay, stay, old man,"—I began, almost in desperation;—"how uncommunicative thou art to-day, really.... Tell me, at least, has your mistress risen yet?"
"She has."
"And .... is she at home?"
"No, she 's not at home."
"Has she gone off on a visit, pray?"
"No, sir; she has gone to Moscow."
"To Moscow! How is that? Why, she was here this morning!"