“Well? Why don’t you take your things off?” Solomin asked. “Have you much luggage?”
Mariana held up her little bundle.
“I have only this.”
“I have a portmanteau and a bag, which I left in the cart. I’ll go and—”
“Don’t bother, don’t bother.” Solomin opened the door. “Pavel!” he shouted down the dark staircase, “run and fetch the things from the cart!”
“All right!” answered the never-failing Pavel.
Solomin turned to Mariana, who had taken off her shawl and was unfastening her cloak.
“Did everything go off happily?” he asked.
“Quite ... not a soul saw us. I left a letter for Madame Sipiagina. Vassily Fedotitch, I didn’t bring any clothes with me, because you’re going to send us ...” (Mariana wanted to say to the people, but hesitated). “They wouldn’t have been of any use in any case. I have money to buy what is necessary.”
“We’ll see to that later on.... Ah!” he exclaimed, pointing to Pavel who was at that moment coming in together with Nejdanov and the luggage from the cart, “I can recommend you my best friend here. You may rely on him absolutely, as you would on me. Have you told Tatiana about the samovar?” he added in an undertone.