Alekseï Aleksandrovitch glanced at him and noticed that his gray eyes, full of intelligence, had apparently read all that he had to tell.
"Do you know my name?" asked Alekseï Aleksandrovitch.
"I know you and how valuable"—here again he caught a miller—"your services are, as every Russian does," replied the lawyer, bowing.
Alekseï Aleksandrovitch sighed; with difficulty he brought himself to speak; but when he had once begun, he continued unhesitatingly, in a clear, sharp voice, emphasizing certain words.
"I have the misfortune to be a deceived husband. I wish to obtain legal separation from my wife,—that is, a divorce,—and, above all, to separate my son from his mother."
The lawyer's gray eyes did their best to remain serious, but they danced with unrestrained delight, and Alekseï Aleksandrovitch saw that they were full of an amusement not caused solely by the prospect of a good suit; they shone with enthusiasm, with triumph,—something like the brilliancy he had noticed in his wife's eyes.
"You wish my assistance to obtain the divorce?"
"Yes, exactly; but I must warn you that I run the risk of wasting your time, I have only come to ask preliminary advice. I wish a divorce, but for me certain forms are essential in which it is possible. Very possibly I shall give up the idea of any legal attempt if these forms do not coincide with my requirements."
"Oh, that is always the way," said the lawyer; "you will always remain perfectly free."
The little man, that he might not offend his client by the delight which his face ill concealed, fixed his eyes on Alekseï Aleksandrovitch's feet. He saw a moth flying in front of his nose and he put out his hand, but he restrained himself, out of respect to Alekseï Aleksandrovitch's situation.
"The general features of the laws of divorce are well known to me," continued Alekseï Aleksandrovitch; "but
