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    "For Grisha?" said the little girl, pointing to the chocolate. "Yes,
     yes." And still stroking her little shoulder, he kissed her on the
    roots of her hair and neck, and let her go. "The carriage is ready,"
   said Matvey; "but there's some one to see you with a petition." "Been
   here long?" asked Stepan Arkadyevitch. "Half an hour." "How many times
     have I told you to tell me at once?" "One must let you drink your
    coffee in peace, at least," said Matvey, in the affectionately gruff
   tone with which it was impossible to be angry. "Well, show the person
    up at once," said Oblonsky, frowning with vexation. The petitioner,
    the widow of a staff captain Kalinin, came with a request impossible
    and unreasonable; but Stepan Arkadyevitch, as he generally did, made
    her sit down, heard her to the end attentively without interrupting
   her, and gave her detailed advice as to how and to whom to apply, and
     even wrote her, in his large, sprawling, good and legible hand, a
   confident and fluent little note to a personage who might be of use to
                                her. Having