The Brothers Karamazov

“That’s what I immediately thought! He’s lying to me, brazenly, that’s what! And he’s being jealous now so that he can blame me later. He’s a fool, he can’t cover his traces, he’s so open ... But I’ll show him, I’ll show him! ‘You believe I killed him,’ he said—he said it to me, to me, he reproached me with that! God help him! But you just wait, that Katka will get it from me at the trial! I’ll have a little something to say there ... I’ll say everything there!” And again she cried bitterly.

“This much I can tell you firmly, Grushenka,” Alyosha said, rising, “first, that he loves you, loves you more than anyone in the world, and only you, believe me when I say it. I know. I really know. The second thing I will tell you is that I am not going to try and worm the secret out of him, but if he tells me himself today, I’ll tell him straight out that I have promised to tell you. Then I’ll come to you this very day and tell you. Only ... it seems to me ... Katerina Ivanovna has nothing to do with it, and the secret is about something else. That is certainly so. It doesn’t look at all as if it has to do with Katerina Ivanovna, so it seems to me. Good-bye for now!”

Alyosha pressed her hand. Grushenka was still crying. He saw that she had very little faith in his consolations, but it was good enough even so that she had vented her grief, that she had spoken herself out. He was sorry to leave her in such a state, but he was in a rush. He still had much to do ahead of him.

Chapter 2: An Ailing Little Foot

The first thing he had to do was at Madame Khokhlakov’s house, and he hurried there to get it over with as quickly as possible and not be late for Mitya. Madame Khokhlakov had been a bit unwell for the past three weeks: her foot had become swollen for some reason, and though she did not stay in bed, she spent the day reclining on the couch in her boudoir, dressed in an attractive, but decent, deshabille. Alyosha once noted to himself with an innocent smile that, despite her illness, Madame Khokhlakov had become almost dressy— all sorts of lace caps, bows, little bed-jackets appeared—and he imagined he knew why, though he tried to chase such idle thoughts from his mind. Among other guests, Madame Khokhlakov had been visited over the past two months by the young man Perkhotin. Alyosha had not come to call for four days, and, on entering the house, hastened to go straight to Liza, as it was with her that he had to do, since Liza had sent her maid to him the day before with an urgent request that he come to her at once “about a very important circumstance,” which, for certain reasons, aroused Alyosha’s interest. But while the maid was gone to announce him to Liza, Madame Khokhlakov learned of his arrival from someone and sent at once asking him to come to her “for just a moment. “ Alyosha decided it would be better to satisfy the mother’s request first, or she would keep sending to Liza every minute while he was with her. Madame Khokhlakov was lying on her couch, dressed somehow especially festively and obviously in a state of extreme nervous excitement. She greeted Alyosha with cries of rapture.