expected
there. The mother had already been to three or four places to look for
Nastasia, but had not found a trace of any kind.

The prince said nothing, but entered the room, sat down silently, and
stared at them, one after the other, with the air of a man who cannot
understand what is being said to him. It was strange--one moment he
seemed to be so observant, the next so absent; his behaviour struck
all the family as most remarkable. At length he rose from his seat, and
begged to be shown Nastasia's rooms. The ladies reported afterwards how
he had examined everything in the apartments. He observed an open book
on the table, Madam Bovary, and requested the leave of the lady of the
house to take it with him. He had turned down the leaf at the open page,
and pocketed it before they could explain that it was a library book. He
had then seated himself by the open window, and seeing a card-table, he
asked who played cards.

He was informed that Nastasia used to play with Rogojin every evening,
either at "preference" or "little fool," or "whist"; that this had been
their practice since her last return from Pavlofsk; that she had taken
to this amusement because she did not like to see Rogojin sitting silent
and dull for whole evenings at a time; that the day after Nastasia had
made a remark to this effect, Rogojin had whipped a pack of cards out
of his pocket. Nastasia had laughed, but soon they began playing. The
prince asked where were the cards, but was told that Rogojin used to
bring a new pack every day, and always carried it away in his pocket.

The good ladies recommended the prince to try knocking at Rogojin's once
more--not at once, but in the evening Meanwhile, the mother would go to
Pavlofsk to inquire at Dana Alexeyevna's whether anything had been heard
of Nastasia there. The prince was to come back at ten o'clock and meet
her, to hear her news and arrange plans for the morrow.

In spite of the kindly-meant consolations of his new friends, the prince
walked to his hotel in inexpressible anguish of spirit, through the hot,
dusty streets, aimlessly staring at the faces of those who passed him.
Arrived at his destination, he determined to rest awhile in his room
before he started for Rogojin's once more. He sat down, rested his
elbows on the table and his head on his hands, and fell to thinking.

Heaven knows how long and upon what subjects he thought. He thought
of many things--of Vera Lebedeff, and of her fath