Oh, I don't say of my foot!
Make special note that I did not mention my foot; I respect myself enough to be able to say it without beating around the bush; but you alone are able to understand that, by rejecting my own heel in this case, I am showing, perhaps, an extraordinary pride of dignity.
Besides you, no one else will understand, and he at the head of all the others.
He doesn't understand anything, Prince; he's totally, totally unable to understand!
One must have heart in order to understand!"
In the end the prince was almost frightened and arranged to meet the general the next day at the same hour.
The man went away cheerful, extremely comforted, and almost calm.
In the evening, past six o'clock, the prince sent to ask Lebedev to come to him for a moment.
Lebedev appeared with extreme haste, "considering it an honor," as he began to say at once on coming in; there seemed to be no shadow of that three-day-long hiding and obvious avoidance of meeting the prince.
He sat down on the edge of a chair, with grimaces, with smiles, with laughing and peering little eyes, with a rubbing of hands, and with an air of the most naive expectation of hearing some sort of capital information, long awaited and guessed by all.
The prince winced again; it was becoming clear to him that everyone had suddenly begun to expect something from him, that everyone looked at him as if wishing to congratulate him for some- thing, dropping hints, smiling, and winking.
Keller had already stopped by three times for a moment, and also with an obvious wish to congratulate him: he began each time rapturously and vaguely, never finished anything, and quickly effaced himself. (For the last few days he had been drinking especially heavily somewhere and had made a row in some billiard parlor.) Even Kolya, despite his sadness, also once or twice began talking vaguely about something with the prince.
The prince asked Lebedev directly and somewhat irritably what he thought of the general's present state and why he was in such anxiety.
In a few words he recounted that day's scene for him.
"Everybody has his anxieties, Prince, and . . . especially in our strange and anxious age, sir; so it is, sir," Lebedev answered with a certain dryness and fell silent, looking hurt, like a man whose expectations have been badly disappointed.
"What philosophy!" smiled the prince.
"Philosophy's needed, sir, very much needed in our age, for practical application, sir, but it's held in disdain, sir, that's what.
For my part, my much-esteemed Prince, though I used to be honored by your trustfulness towards me in a certain point, which is known to you, sir, but only to a certain degree, and by no means further than the circumstances that essentially concern that same point ... I realize it and am not complaining in the least."
"Lebedev, you seem to be angry about something?"
"Not at all, not in the least, my much-esteemed and most radiant Prince, not in the least!" Lebedev cried out ecstatically, putting his hand to his heart. "But, on the contrary, I precisely and immediately comprehended that, neither in worldly position, nor in development of mind and heart, nor in accumulated wealth, nor in my previous behavior, nor yet in learning am I in any way deserving of your honored and lofty trust, which far exceeds my hopes; and that if I may serve you, it is as a slave or a hired servant, not otherwise ... I am not angry, but sad, sir."
"Lukyan Timofeich, for pity's sake!"
"Not otherwise!
And so it is now, so it is in the present case!
Meeting you and following you with my heart and thought, I said to myself: I'm unworthy of friendly communications, but in my quality as landlord I may, perhaps, receive orders in due time, by the expected date, so to speak, or at least notification in view of certain forthcoming and expected changes ..."
As he uttered this, Lebedev simply riveted his sharp little eyes on the prince, who was staring at him in amazement; he was still hoping to satisfy his curiosity.
"I understand decidedly nothing," the prince cried all but wrathfully, "and . . . you are a terrible intriguer!" He suddenly burst into the most genuine laughter.
Lebedev instantly laughed, too, and his brightened eyes showed at once that his hopes had now become clearer and even twice greater.
"And do you know what I shall tell you, Lukyan Timofeich?
Only don't be angry with me, but I'm surprised at your naivety, and not only yours!
You expect something from me with such naivety, precisely now, at this moment, that I'm even abashed and ashamed before you, because I have nothing to satisfy you with; but I swear to you that there is decidedly nothing, if you can imagine that!"
The prince laughed again.
Lebedev assumed a dignified air.
It is true that he was sometimes even too naive and importunate in his curiosity; but at the same time he was a rather cunning and devious man, and on certain occasions even too insidiously taciturn; by constantly rebuffing him, the prince had almost prepared in him an enemy for himself.
But the prince rebuffed him not because he despised him, but because the theme of his curiosity was a delicate one.
Only a few days ago the prince had looked upon some of his dreams as upon a crime, but Lukyan Timofeich had taken the prince's retorts as personal revulsion and suspicion towards himself, had gone away with a wounded heart, and was jealous not only of Kolya and Keller, but even of his own daughter, Vera Lukyanovna.
Even at that very moment, he could have informed the prince of a certain piece of news interesting for him in the highest degree, and may have sincerely wished to, but he fell gloomily silent and did not inform him.
"In what, essentially, can I be of service to you, my much-esteemed Prince, since all the same you have now . . . summoned me?" he said finally, after some silence.
"It was, essentially, about the general," the prince, who had lapsed into a moment's thought, roused himself, "and . . . concerning that theft of yours, which you informed me about . . ."
"Concerning what, sir?"
"Well, so now it's as if you don't understand me!
Oh, God, Lukyan Timofeich, what are all these roles of yours!
The money, the money, the four hundred roubles you lost then, in your wallet, and came here to tell me about, that morning, before going to Petersburg—do you understand finally?"
"Ah, it's about those four hundred roubles!" Lebedev drew out, as if he had only just realized.
"Thank you, Prince, for your genuine concern; it is only too flattering for me, but... I found the money, sir, a long time ago."
"Found it!
Ah, thank God!"
"A most noble exclamation on your part, for four hundred roubles are a matter of no small importance for a poor man who lives by hard work, with a numerous family of orphans . . ."
"But I didn't mean that!
Of course, I'm also glad you found it," the prince quickly corrected his slip, "but. . . how did you find it?"
"Extremely simply, sir. I found it under the chair on which the frock coat was hanging, which obviously means that the wallet slipped out of the pocket onto the floor."