“When?”
Nejdanov told her when and under what circumstances. While he was speaking Mariana glanced from him to the portrait. The same thought flashed across both their minds. “If he were in this room, then he would have the right to demand ...” But neither Mariana nor Nejdanov gave expression to this thought in words, perhaps because each was conscious what was in the other’s mind.
Mariana quietly wrapped the portrait up again in its paper and put it on the table.
“What a good man he is!” she murmured. “I wonder where he is now?”
“Why, at home of course. Tomorrow or the day after I must go and see him about some books and pamphlets. He promised to give me some, but evidently forgot to do so before I left.”
“And do you think, Aliosha, that when he gave you this portrait he renounced everything ... absolutely everything?”
“I think so.”
“Do you think you will find him at home?”
“Of course.”
“Ah!” Mariana lowered her eyes and dropped her hands at her sides. “But here comes Tatiana with our dinner,” she exclaimed suddenly. “Isn’t she a dear!”