But nobody would come.

It was drizzling.

It was turning cold, he would have to have the stove heated.

He sighed.

Suddenly a terrible apparition flashed upon his eyes: Varvara Petrovna in such weather and at such an unexpected hour to see him! And on foot! He was so astounded that he forgot to put on his coat, and received her as he was, in his everlasting pink-wadded dressing-jacket.
_"Ma bonne amie!"_ he cried faintly, to greet her.