Page 417 - the-idiot

‘Oh, sit down, sit down, why are you standing?’
Lizabetha Prokofievna placed a chair for him with her
own hands.
‘Thank you,’ he said gently. ‘Sit opposite to me, and let us
talk. We must have a talk now, Lizabetha Prokofievna; I am
very anxious for it.’ He smiled at her once more. ‘Remember
that today, for the last time, I am out in the air, and in the
company of my fellow-men, and that in a fortnight I shall I
certainly be no longer in this world. So, in a way, this is my
farewell to nature and to men. I am not very sentimental,
but do you know, I am quite glad that all this has happened
at Pavlofsk, where at least one can see a green tree.’
‘But why talk now?’ replied Lizabetha Prokofievna, more
and more alarmed; ‘are quite feverish. Just now you would
not stop shouting, and now you can hardly breathe. You are
gasping.’
‘I shall have time to rest. Why will you not grant my last
wish? Do you know, Lizabetha Prokofievna, that I have
dreamed of meeting you for a long while? I had often heard
of you from Colia; he is almost the only person who still
comes to see me. You are an original and eccentric woman;
I have seen that for myself—Do you know, I have even been
rather fond of you?’
‘Good heavens! And I very nearly struck him!’
‘You were prevented by Aglaya Ivanovna. I think I am
not mistaken? That is your daughter, Aglaya Ivanovna? She
is so beautiful that I recognized her directly, although I had
never seen her before. Let me, at least, look on beauty for
the last time in my life,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘You are

1 The Idiot