“Yes. Can’t one cut pages with a garden knife?”
“It’s quite new.”
“Well, what of that? Can’t I buy a new knife if I like?” shouted Rogojin furiously, his irritation growing with every word.
The prince shuddered, and gazed fixedly at Parfen. Suddenly he burst out laughing.
“Why, what an idea!” he said. “I didn’t mean to ask you any of these questions; I was thinking of something quite different! But my head is heavy, and I seem so absent-minded nowadays! Well, good-bye—I can’t remember what I wanted to say—good-bye!”
“Not that way,” said Rogojin.
“There, I’ve forgotten that too!”
“This way—come along—I’ll show you.”
IV.
They passed through the same rooms which the prince had traversed on his arrival. In the largest there were pictures on the walls, portraits and landscapes of little interest. Over the door, however, there was one of strange and rather striking shape; it was six or seven feet in length, and not more than a foot in height. It represented the Saviour just taken from the cross.