The captain did not venture to sit down on the sofa, but at once moved up another chair for himself, and bent forward to listen, in a tremor of expectation.
"What have you got there under the table-cloth ?" asked Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, suddenly noticing it.
"That ?" said Lebyadkin, turning towards it also.

"That's from your generosity, by way of house-warming, so to say; considering also the length of the walk, and your natural fatigue," he sniggered ingratiatingly.

Then he got up on tiptoe, and respectfully and carefully lifted the table-cloth from the table in the corner.

Under it was seen a slight meal: ham, veal, sardines, cheese, a little green decanter, and a long bottle of Bordeaux.

Everything had been laid neatly, expertly, and almost daintily.
"Was that your effort ?" "Yes, sir.