"Come along," he whispered.

He had spoken in a whisper all the way. In spite of his apparent outward
composure, he was evidently in a state of great mental agitation.
Arrived in a large salon, next to the study, he went to the window and
cautiously beckoned the prince up to him.

"When you rang the bell this morning I thought it must be you. I went to
the door on tip-toe and heard you talking to the servant opposite. I had
told her before that if anyone came and rang--especially you, and I gave
her your name--she was not to tell about me. Then I thought, what if
he goes and stands opposite and looks up, or waits about to watch the
house? So I came to this very window, looked out, and there you were
staring straight at me. That's how it came about."

"Where is Nastasia Philipovna?" asked the prince, breathlessly.

"She's here," replied Rogojin, slowly, after a slight pause.

"Where?"

Rogojin raised his eyes and gazed intently at the prince.

"Come," he said.

He continued to speak in a whisper, very deliberately as before, and
looked strangely thoughtful and dreamy. Even while he told the story of
how he had peeped through the blind, he gave the impression of wishing
to say something else. They entered the study. In this room some changes
had taken place since the prince last saw it. It was now divided into
two equal parts by a heavy green silk curtain stretched across it,
separating the alcove beyond, where stood Rogojin's bed, from the rest
of the room.

The heavy curtain was drawn now, and it was very dark. The bright
Petersburg summer nights were already beginning to close in, and but for
the full moon, it would have been difficult to distinguish anything in
Rogojin's dismal room, with the drawn blinds. They could just see one
anothers faces, however, though not in detail. Rogojin's face was white,
as usual. His glittering eyes watched the prince with an intent stare.

"Had you not better light a candle?" said Muishkin.

"No, I needn't," replied Rogojin, and taking the other by the hand he
drew him down to a chair. He himself took a chair opposite and drew it
up so close that he almost pressed against the prince's knees. At their
side was a little round table.

"Sit down," said Rogojin; "let's rest a bit." There was silence for a
moment.

"I knew you would be at that hotel," he continued, just as men sometimes
commence a serious conversation by discussing any outside subject before
leading up to