Where are you off to?
Where are you off to?
Where are you off to?
"I'll be back directly," Stepan Trofimovitch cried from the next room.
"Here I am again." "Ah,--you've changed your coat." She scanned him mockingly.

(He had flung his coat on over the dressing-jacket.) "Well, certainly that's more suited to our subject.

Do sit down, I entreat you." She told him everything at once, abruptly and impressively.

She hinted at the eight thousand of which he stood in such terrible need.

She told him in detail of the dowry.