I noticed this with surprise; there had never been a lamp there before and now suddenly it had made its appearance.
"I arranged for that as soon as they had gone away," muttered Stepan Trofimovitch, looking at me slyly.

"_Quand on a de ces choses-la dans sa chambre et qu'on vient vous arreter_ it makes an impression and they are sure to report that they have seen it...." When she had done the lamp, Nastasya stood in the doorway, leaned her cheek in her right hand, and began gazing at him with a lachrymose air.
"_Eloignez-la_ on some excuse," he nodded to me from the sofa.

"I can't endure this Russian sympathy, _et puis ca m'embete._" But she went away of herself.

I noticed that he kept looking towards the door and listening for sounds in the passage.
_"Il faut etre pret, voyez-vous,"_ he said, looking at me significantly, _"chaque moment..._ they may come and take one and, phew!--a man disappears." "Heavens! who'll come?
Who will take you ?" "_Voyez-vous, mon cher,_ I asked straight out when he was going away, what would they do to me now." "You'd better have asked them where you'd be exiled!" I cried out in the same indignation.
"That's just what I meant when I asked, but he went away without answering.

_Voyez-vous:_ as for linen, clothes, warm things especially, that must be as they decide; if they tell me to take them--all right, or they might send me in a soldier's overcoat.