Out of Context

The Idiot
Fyodor Dostoyevsky [trans. Eva Martin]

It was seven in the evening, and the prince was just preparing to go out for a walk in the park, when suddenly Mrs. Epanchin appeared on the terrace.

“In the first place, don’t dare to suppose,” she began, “that I am going to apologize. Nonsense! You were entirely to blame.”

The prince remained silent.

“Were you to blame, or not?”

“No, certainly not, no more than yourself, though at first I thought I was.”

“Oh, very well, let’s sit down, at all events, for I don’t intend to stand up all day. And remember, if you say, one word about ‘mischievous urchins,’ I shall go away and break with you altogether. Now then, did you, or did you not, send a letter to Aglaya, a couple of months or so ago, about Eastertide?”

“Yes!”