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Updated: May 5, 2025
“They taught me all those well-bred, aristocratic dances when I was little....” “Go, go with him, Mitya, and I’ll watch from here how he dances,” said Grushenka. “No, no, I’m coming to look on, too,” exclaimed Kalganov, brushing aside in the most naïve way Grushenka’s offer to sit with him. They all went to look on. Maximov danced his dance. But it roused no great admiration in any one but Mitya.
I thought that you had just visited her, and that was all.” “Can a betrothed man pay such visits? Is such a thing possible and with such a betrothed, and before the eyes of all the world? Confound it, I have some honor! As soon as I began visiting Grushenka, I ceased to be betrothed, and to be an honest man. I understand that. Why do you look at me? You see, I went in the first place to beat her.
Grushenka had somehow heard before she came into the court that he had given evidence against Mitya, and so she was angry. The whole effect on the public, of Rakitin’s speech, of his noble sentiments, of his attacks upon serfdom and the political disorder of Russia, was this time finally ruined. Fetyukovitch was satisfied: it was another godsend.
Alyosha turned away, wringing his hands. Grushenka ran out of the house, laughing musically. Katerina Ivanovna went into a fit of hysterics. She sobbed, and was shaken with convulsions. Every one fussed round her. “I warned you,” said the elder of her aunts. “I tried to prevent your doing this. You’re too impulsive. How could you do such a thing?
Fenya, is it that little girl they’ve sent? Here, give her three roubles and pack a dozen pies up in a paper and tell her to take them. And you, Alyosha, be sure to tell Mitya that I did send them the pies.” “I wouldn’t tell him for anything,” said Alyosha, smiling. “Ech! You think he is unhappy about it. Why, he’s jealous on purpose. He doesn’t care,” said Grushenka bitterly.
I’ll tell them to turn you out and you’ll be turned out,” cried Grushenka, furious. “I’ve been a fool, a fool, to have been miserable these five years! And it wasn’t for his sake, it was my anger made me miserable. And this isn’t he at all! Was he like this? It might be his father! Where did you get your wig from? He was a falcon, but this is a gander.
Grushenka was not easily to be approached and except her aged protector there had not been one man who could boast of her favors during those four years. It was a positive fact, for there had been a good many, especially during the last two years, who had attempted to obtain those favors.
She was pale and sat with her eyes cast down. Those who were sitting near her declared that for a long time she shivered all over as though in a fever. Grushenka was called. I am approaching the sudden catastrophe which was perhaps the final cause of Mitya’s ruin.
For I am convinced, so is every one—all the lawyers said the same afterwards—that if the episode had not occurred, the prisoner would at least have been recommended to mercy. But of that later. A few words first about Grushenka. She, too, was dressed entirely in black, with her magnificent black shawl on her shoulders.
Both the Poles rose from their seats with a deeply offended air. “Are you joking, panie?” said the short man, looking severely at Kalganov. “How dare you!” Pan Vrublevsky, too, growled at Kalganov. “Don’t dare to shout like that,” cried Grushenka. “Ah, you turkey-cocks!” Mitya looked at each of them in turn.
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