`You do your part. God is merciful; pray to God, sir - pray to God.'
`Come, that'll do, you can go,' said Stepan Arkadyevich, blushing suddenly. `Well, now, let's dress,' he turned to Matvei and resolutely threw off his dressing gown.
Matvei was already holding up the shirt like a horse's collar, and, blowing off some invisible speck, he slipped it with obvious pleasure over the well-cared-for person of his master.