“Asleep?” whispered the prince.
Rogojin looked intently at him again, as before.
“Let’s go in—but you mustn’t—well—let’s go in.”
He lifted the curtain, paused—and turned to the prince. “Go in,” he said, motioning him to pass behind the curtain. Muishkin went in.
“It’s so dark,” he said.
“You can see quite enough,” muttered Rogojin.
“I can just see there’s a bed—”
“Go nearer,” suggested Rogojin, softly.
The prince took a step forward—then another—and paused. He stood and stared for a minute or two.
Neither of the men spoke a word while at the bedside. The prince’s heart beat so loud that its knocking seemed to be distinctly audible in the deathly silence.