United States or Malaysia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
“When I stood him drinks in the tavern, the man had quite a different face,” thought Mitya, as he got in. At the gates there was a crowd of people, peasants, women and drivers. Trifon Borissovitch came down the steps too. All stared at Mitya. “Forgive me at parting, good people!” Mitya shouted suddenly from the cart. “Forgive us too!” he heard two or three voices.
Pelagéya Egórovna, Lyubóv Gordéyevna, and guests with them. MÍTYA alone MÍTYA. Oh, Lord, what misery! Everybody in the streets is having a holiday, and everybody in the houses too, and you have to sit between four walls! I am a stranger to all, no relations, no friends! And then besides! O well! "Her beauty I cannot describe! Dark eyebrows, with languishing eyes." Yes, with languishing eyes.
“In the next room, I’ve two words to say to you, something pleasant, very pleasant. You’ll be glad to hear it.” The little pan was taken aback and looked apprehensively at Mitya. He agreed at once, however, on condition that Pan Vrublevsky went with them. “The bodyguard? Let him come, and I want him, too. I must have him!” cried Mitya. “March, panovie!”
You’re not of age, besides, and you must—you absolutely must—take my farewell to her to-day, with the money or without it, for I can’t drag on any longer, things have come to such a pass. To-morrow is too late. I shall send you to father.” “To father?” “Yes, to father first. Ask him for three thousand.” “But, Mitya, he won’t give it.” “As though he would! I know he won’t.
Trifon Borissovitch, bear witness. Forgive my foolish words ...” “What are you afraid of?” asked Mitya, scanning him. “Well, go to the devil, if that’s it!” he cried, flinging him five roubles. “Now, Trifon Borissovitch, take me up quietly and let me first get a look at them, so that they don’t see me. Where are they? In the blue room?”
Tucking up his cassock, Alyosha leapt over the hurdle with the agility of a bare-legged street urchin. “Well done! Now come along,” said Mitya in an enthusiastic whisper. “Where?” whispered Alyosha, looking about him and finding himself in a deserted garden with no one near but themselves. The garden was small, but the house was at least fifty paces away. “There’s no one here.
Hearing of the message, Mitya suddenly smiled, and there was a flush of color on his pale cheeks. At the same moment Fenya said to him, not a bit afraid now to be inquisitive: “Look at your hands, Dmitri Fyodorovitch. They’re all over blood!” “Yes,” answered Mitya mechanically. He looked carelessly at his hands and at once forgot them and Fenya’s question. He sank into silence again.
It may be pretty certainly assumed that she herself did not know till the very last minute whether she would speak of that episode in the court, and waited for the inspiration of the moment. No, I can never forget those moments. She began telling her story. She told everything, the whole episode that Mitya had told Alyosha, and her bowing to the ground, and her reason.
He pulled the bundle of notes out of his pocket again, picked out three hundred roubles, threw them on the counter, and ran hurriedly out of the shop. Every one followed him out, bowing and wishing him good luck. Andrey, coughing from the brandy he had just swallowed, jumped up on the box. But Mitya was only just taking his seat when suddenly to his surprise he saw Fenya before him.
And the drunken peasant still lay snoring. The candle guttered and was about to go out. Mitya cried out, and ran staggering across the passage into the forester’s room. The forester waked up at once, but hearing that the other room was full of fumes, to Mitya’s surprise and annoyance, accepted the fact with strange unconcern, though he did go to see to it.
Word Of The Day