"Shatushka, Shatushka, is it true that your wife ran away from you ?" She suddenly put both hands on his shoulders, and looked at him pityingly.

"Don't be angry, I feel sick myself.

Do you know, Shatushka, I've had a dream: he came to me again, he beckoned me, called me.

'My little puss,' he cried to me, 'little puss, come to me!' And I was more delighted at that 'little puss' than anything; he loves me, I thought." "Perhaps he will come in reality," Shatov muttered in an undertone.
"No, Shatushka, that's a dream....

He can't come in reality.