The Brothers Karamazov

He was soon dismissed. Finally it came to be Grushenka’s turn. The investigators were obviously apprehensive of the impression her appearance would make on Dmitri Fyodorovich, and Nikolai Parfenovich even muttered a few words of admonition to him, but Mitya silently bent his head in reply, letting him know that “there would be no disturbance. “ Grushenka was led in by Mikhail Makarovich himself. She entered with a stern and sullen face, looking almost calm, and quietly sat down on the chair offered her facing Nikolai Parfenovich. She was very pale, she seemed to be cold, and kept wrapping herself tightly in her beautiful black shawl. In fact, she was then beginning to have a slight feverish chill—the start of a long illness that first came over her that night. Her stem look, her direct and serious eyes and calm manner produced quite a favorable impression on everyone. Nikolai Parfenovich even got somewhat “carried away” at once. He himself admitted, talking about it afterwards in one place or another, that he had only then perceived how “good-looking” this woman was, and that before, the few times he had seen her, he had always regarded her as something of a “provincial hetaera.” “She has the manners of the highest society,” he once blurted out rapturously in some ladies’ circle. But this was received with the utmost indignation, and he was at once dubbed “a naughty boy” for it, which pleased him no end. As she entered the room, Grushenka seemed to give only a passing glance to Mitya, who in turn looked at her anxiously, but her appearance immediately reassured him. After the first obligatory questions and admonitions, Nikolai Parfenovich, hesitating a little, but nonetheless maintaining a most courteous air, asked her: “What had been her relations with the retired lieutenant Dmitri Fyodorovich Karamazov?” To which Grushenka quietly and firmly replied: “He was my acquaintance, I received him during the past month as an acquaintance.”

To further inquisitive questions she declared directly and with complete frankness, that though she had liked him “at times,” she had not been in love with him, but had been enticing him “in my vile wickedness,” as well as the “old man,” that she had seen how jealous Mitya was of Fyodor Pavlovich and of everyone, but it only amused her. And she had never meant to go to Fyodor Pavlovich, but was just laughing at him. “All that month I couldn’t be bothered with either of them; I was expecting another man, one who was guilty before me ... But I think,” she concluded, “that there is no need for you to ask about that, or for me to answer you, because that is my particular business.”

And Nikolai Parfenovich immediately did just that: once again he stopped insisting on “romantic” points, and moved directly on to the serious one— that is, to the same and chief question concerning the three thousand. Grushenka confirmed that three thousand roubles had indeed been spent in Mokroye a month before, and that though she had not counted the money herself, she had heard from Dmitri Fyodorovich that it was three thousand roubles.

“Did he say it to you privately, or in someone else’s presence, or did you only hear him say it to others around you?” the prosecutor inquired at once.

To which Grushenka replied that she had heard it in other people’s presence, had heard him say it to others, and had also heard it privately from Mitya himself.

“Did he say it to you once or many times in private?” the prosecutor inquired again, and learned that Grushenka had heard it many times.

Ippolit Kirillovich was very pleased with this evidence. Further questioning revealed that Grushenka knew where the money had come from and that Dmitri Fyodorovich had taken it from Katerina Ivanovna.

“And did you ever once hear that the money squandered a month ago was not three thousand but less, and that Dmitri Fyodorovich had kept fully half of it for himself?”

“No, I never heard that,” Grushenka testified.

It was further discovered that Mitya, on the contrary, had often told her during that month that he did not have a kopeck. “He kept waiting for what he would get from his father,” Grushenka concluded.

“And did he ever say before you ... somehow in passing, or in irritation,” Nikolai Parfenovich suddenly struck, “that he intended to make an attempt on his father’s life?” “Ah, yes, he did!” sighed Grushenka.

“Once or several times?”

“He mentioned it several times, always in a fit of anger.”

“And did you believe he would go through with it?”

“No, I never believed it!” she replied firmly. “I trusted in his nobility.”

“Gentlemen, allow me,” Mitya suddenly cried, “allow me to say just one word to Agrafena Alexandrovna in your presence.”

“Say it,” Nikolai Parfenovich consented.

“Agrafena Alexandrovna,” Mitya rose a little from his chair, “believe God and me: I am not guilty of the blood of my father who was killed last night!”