know something?" observed the other, triumphantly.

"Bosh! there are plenty of Nastasia Philipovnas. And what an impertinent
beast you are!" he added angrily. "I thought some creature like you
would hang on to me as soon as I got hold of my money."

"Oh, but I do know, as it happens," said the clerk in an aggravating
manner. "Lebedeff knows all about her. You are pleased to reproach me,
your excellency, but what if I prove that I am right after all? Nastasia
Phillpovna's family name is Barashkoff--I know, you see-and she is a
very well known lady, indeed, and comes of a good family, too. She is
connected with one Totski, Afanasy Ivanovitch, a man of considerable
property, a director of companies, and so on, and a great friend of
General Epanchin, who is interested in the same matters as he is."

"My eyes!" said Rogojin, really surprised at last. "The devil take the
fellow, how does he know that?"

"Why, he knows everything--Lebedeff knows everything! I was a month or
two with Lihachof after his father died, your excellency, and while he
was knocking about--he's in the debtor's prison now--I was with him,
and he couldn't do a thing without Lebedeff; and I got to know Nastasia
Philipovna and several people at that time."

"Nastasia Philipovna? Why, you don't mean to say that she and
Lihachof--" cried Rogojin, turning quite pale.

"No, no, no, no, no! Nothing of the sort, I assure you!" said Lebedeff,
hastily. "Oh dear no, not for the world! Totski's the only man with any
chance there. Oh, no! He takes her to his box at the opera at the French
theatre of an evening, and the officers and people all look at her and
say, 'By Jove, there's the famous Nastasia Philipovna!' but no one ever
gets any further than that, for there is nothing more to say."

"Yes, it's quite true," said Rogojin, frowning gloomily; "so Zaleshoff
told me. I was walking about the Nefsky one fine day, prince, in my
father's old coat, when she suddenly came out of a shop and stepped
into her carriage. I swear I was all of a blaze at once. Then I met
Zaleshoff--looking like a hair-dresser's assistant, got up as fine as I
don't know who, while I looked like a tinker. 'Don't flatter yourself,
my boy,' said he; 'she's not for such as you; she's a princess, she
is, and her name is Nastasia Philipovna Barashkoff, and she lives
with Totski, who wishes to get rid of her because he's growing rather
old--fifty-five or so--and wants to marry a certain beauty, t