"Yes, I've been invited," he replied.

She was obviously embarrassed to go on.

"Is it possible to speak with you about anything serious? At least once in your life?" she suddenly became extremely angry, not knowing why herself and not able to restrain herself.

"It's possible, and I'm listening to you; I'm very glad," the prince murmured.

Aglaya paused again for about a minute and began with obvious repugnance:

"I didn't want to argue about it with them; in certain cases they can't be brought to reason. The rules that maman sometimes goes by have always been repugnant to me. I'm not speaking of father, there's nothing to be expected from him. Maman is, of course, a noble woman; dare to suggest something mean to her and you'll see . . . Well, but before this . . . trash—she stands in awe! I'm not speaking of this Belokonsky alone: a trashy little hag, and with a trashy character, but she's intelligent and knows how to hold them all in her hand—that, at least, is a good thing about her. Oh, meanness! And it's ridiculous: we've always been people of the middle circle, as middle as can be; why climb into that high-society circle? And my sisters, too: this Prince Shch. has got them all confused. Why are you glad that Evgeny Pavlych will come?"

"Listen, Aglaya," said the prince, "it seems to me you're very afraid for me, that I'll flunk it tomorrow ... in that company?"

"For you? Afraid?" Aglaya flared up. "Why should I be afraid for you, even if you . . . even if you disgrace yourself completely? What is it to me? And how can you use such words? What does 'flunk' mean? It's a trite, trashy word."

"It's a . . . school word."

"Ah, yes, a school word! A trashy word! You intend, apparently, to speak in such words tomorrow. Go home and pick more words like that from your lexicon: what an effect you'll make! Too bad you seem to know how to make a proper entrance; where did you

learn that? Will you be able to take a cup of tea and drink it decently, while everybody's looking at you on purpose?"

"I think I'll be able to."

"That's too bad; otherwise I'd have had a good laugh. At least break the Chinese vase in the drawing room! It's expensive: please break it; it was a gift, mama will lose her mind and cry in front of everybody—it's so precious to her. Make some gesture, the way you always do, hit it and break it. Sit next to it on purpose."

"On the contrary, I'll try to sit as far away as possible: thank you for warning me."

"So you're afraid beforehand that you'll make grand gestures. I bet you'll start discussing some 'topic,' something serious, learned, lofty? That will be . . . proper!"

"I think it would be stupid ... if it's inappropriate."

"Listen once and for all," Aglaya finally could not stand it, "if you start talking about something like capital punishment or the economic situation in Russia, or that 'beauty will save the world'. . . I'll certainly be glad and laugh very much, but . . . I'm warning you ahead of time: don't let me set eyes on you afterwards! Do you hear? I'm speaking seriously! This time I'm speaking seriously!"

She actually uttered her threat seriously, so that something extraordinary could even be heard in her words and glimpsed in her eyes, something that the prince had never noticed before and that certainly bore no resemblance to a joke.

"Well, you've made it so that now I'll be sure to 'start talking' and even . . . maybe . . . break the vase as well. I wasn't afraid of anything before, but now I'm afraid of everything. I'm sure to flunk."

"Then keep quiet. Sit there and keep quiet."

"It won't be possible; I'm sure to start talking from fear and to break the vase from fear. Maybe I'll trip on the smooth floor, or something else like that will happen, because it's happened before; I'll dream about it all night; why did you speak of it!"

Aglaya gave him a dark look.

"You know what: I'd better not come at all tomorrow! I'll report myself sick and be done with it!" he decided at last.

Aglaya stamped her foot and even turned pale with wrath.

"Lord! Have you ever seen the like! He won't come when it's purposely for him and . . . oh, God! What a pleasure to deal with such a . . . senseless man as you!"

"Well, I'll come, I'll come!" the prince hastily interrupted. "And

I give you my word of honor that I'll sit all evening without saying a word. That's what I'll do."

"Splendid. You just said you'd 'report yourself sick.' Where indeed do you get these expressions? What makes you speak with me in such words? Are you teasing me or something?"

"I'm sorry; that's also a school phrase; I'll stop. I realize very well that you're . . . afraid for me . . . (no, don't be angry!), and I'm terribly glad of it. You won't believe how afraid I am now and— how glad I am of your words. But all this fear, I swear to you, it's all pettiness and nonsense. By God, Aglaya! And the joy will remain. I like it terribly that you're such a child, such a good and kind child! Ah, how beautiful you can be, Aglaya!"

Aglaya would of course have become angry, and was just about to, but suddenly some completely unexpected feeling seized her whole soul in an instant.

"And you won't reproach me for these rude words . . . sometime . . . afterwards?" she suddenly asked.

"How can you, how can you! And why have you blushed again? And again you have this dark look! You sometimes have this dark look, Aglaya, which you never had before. I know why . . ."

"Be quiet, be quiet!"

"No, it's better to say it. I've long wanted to say it; I already have, but ... it wasn't enough, because you didn't believe me. Between us a certain being still stands . . ."

"Quiet, quiet, quiet, quiet!" Aglaya suddenly interrupted, seizing him firmly by the hand and looking at him in all but horror. At that moment someone called her; as if glad of it, she left him and ran off.

The prince was in a fever all night. Strangely, for several nights in a row he had been in a fever. This time, in half-delirium, the thought came to him: what if he should have a fit tomorrow in front of everybody? Had he not had fits in a waking state? The thought petrified him; all night he imagined himself in some odd and unheard-of company, among some strange people. The main thing was that he "started talking"; he knew that he should not be talking, yet he talked all the time, trying to convince them of something. Evgeny Pavlovich and Ippolit were also among the guests and seemed to be on extremely friendly terms.

He woke up past eight o'clock with a headache, with disordered thoughts, with strange impressions. For some reason he wanted terribly to see Rogozhin, to see him and talk a great deal with

him—about what he did not know himself; then he became fully resolved to go for some reason to see Ippolit. There was something vague in his heart, so much so that the adventures that befell him that morning made an impression on him which, while extremely strong, was still somehow incomplete. One of those adventures was a visit from Lebedev.

Lebedev appeared quite early, just after nine, and almost completely drunk. Though the prince had not been observant of late, it had somehow struck his eye that, ever since General Ivolgin moved out of his house three days ago, Lebedev had begun to behave very badly. He had suddenly become somehow very dirty and greasy, his necktie was all askew, and the collar of his frock coat was torn. At home he even raged, and it could be heard across the little yard; Vera had come once in tears and told him something about it. Having appeared now, he began speaking very strangely, beating his breast and confessing something.