Ippolyte Ippolytovich sat in the large, bare dining-room eating chicken cutlets and . A napkin was tied round his neck as if he were a child. Vasena fed him from a tea-spoon, and afterwards led him into his study. The old man lay down on a sofa, put his hand behind his head and fell asleep, his eyes half-open.  
Ilya went to him in the study. He again made a of being cheerful, but his tired eyes betrayed grief, and behind his clean- shaven face, his grey English coat, and yellow boots, somehow one felt there was a great shaken and puzzled soul suffering, yet seeking to its .
 
He sat down at his father's feet.
 
For a long time the old man searched his face with his eyes, then in a scraping, worn-out piping voice, said: "Eh?"
 
"It is so long since we met, father, I am to have a chat with you! Somehow I have no one dearer to me than you! Absolutely no one! How are you, sir?"
 
The old man gazed before him with bleary eyes. He did not seem to have heard. But suddenly screwing up his eyes, straightening out his lips and opening ............