lectively.
"These twenty-five rouble notes brown in a most extraordinary way, while
other notes often grow paler. Take it."

The prince took his note. Ferdishenko rose.

"I came here to warn you," he said. "In the first place, don't lend me
any money, for I shall certainly ask you to."

"Very well."

"Shall you pay here?"

"Yes, I intend to."

"Oh! I DON'T intend to. Thanks. I live here, next door to you; you
noticed a room, did you? Don't come to me very often; I shall see you
here quite often enough. Have you seen the general?"

"No."

"Nor heard him?"

"No; of course not."

"Well, you'll both hear and see him soon; he even tries to borrow money
from me. Avis au lecteur. Good-bye; do you think a man can possibly live
with a name like Ferdishenko?"

"Why not?"

"Good-bye."

And so he departed. The prince found out afterwards that this gentleman
made it his business to amaze people with his originality and wit, but
that it did not as a rule "come off." He even produced a bad impression
on some people, which grieved him sorely; but he did not change his ways
for all that.

As he went out of the prince's room, he collided with yet another
visitor coming in. Ferdishenko took the opportunity of making several
warning gestures to the prince from behind the new arrival's back, and
left the room in conscious pride.

This next arrival was a tall red-faced man of about fifty-five, with
greyish hair and whiskers, and large eyes which stood out of their
sockets. His appearance would have been distinguished had it not been
that he gave the idea of being rather dirty. He was dressed in an old
coat, and he smelled of vodka when he came near. His walk was effective,
and he clearly did his best to appear dignified, and to impress people
by his manner.

This gentleman now approached the prince slowly, and with a most
courteous smile; silently took his hand and held it in his own, as he
examined the prince's features as though searching for familiar traits
therein.

"'Tis he, 'tis he!" he said at last, quietly, but with much solemnity.
"As though he were alive once more. I heard the familiar name-the
dear familiar name--and, oh. I how it reminded me of the irrevocable
past--Prince Muishkin, I believe?"

"Exactly so."

"General Ivolgin--retired and unfortunate. May I ask your Christian and
generic names?"

"Lef Nicolaievitch."

"So, so--the son of my old, I may say my childhood's friend, Nicolai
Petrovitch