And you're right.

"And you're right. I guessed it was so when everything was over, that is when she had given her permission. But enough of that. It all came to nothing through Lidya's death, and perhaps it wouldn't have come off if she had lived, and even now I don't let mother come to see the child. It was only an episode. My dear boy, I've been looking forward to having you here for ever so long. I've been dreaming of how we should get to know each other here. Do you know how long?--for the last two years." He looked at me sincerely and truthfully, and with a warmth of heart in which there was no reserve. I gripped his hand: "Why have you put it off, why did you not invite me long ago? If only you knew all that has been . . . which would not have been if only you had sent for me earlier! . . ." At that instant the samovar was brought in, and Darya Onisimovna suddenly brought in the baby asleep. "Look at it," said Versilov; "I am fond of it, and I told them to bring it in now that you might look at it. Well, take it away again, Darya Onisimovna. Sit down to the samovar. I shall imagine that we have always lived together like this, and that we've been meeting every evening with no parting before us. Let me look at you: there, sit like this, that I can see your face. How I love your face. How I used to imagine your face when I was expecting you from Moscow. You ask why I did not send for you long ago? Wait a little, perhaps you will understand that now." "Can it be that it's only that old man's death that has set your tongue free? That's strange . . ."