We traversed several rooms.... At last, in one of them, she paused in front of a small divan near the window, and seated herself. I sat down beside her.
She slowly turned her head toward me, and looked intently at me.
"Do you .... do you come from him?" she said.
Her voice was weak and unsteady...
Her question somewhat disconcerted me.
"No .... not from him,"—I replied haltingly.
"Do you know him?"
"Yes,"—I replied, with mysterious solemnity. I wanted to keep up my rôle.—"Yes, I know him."
She looked distrustfully at me, started to say something, and dropped her eyes.
"You were waiting for him in Sorrento,"—I went on;—"you met him at Mikhaílovskoe, you rode on horseback with him...."