Page 462 - the-idiot

not entirely a stranger and a foreigner. I felt an ecstasy in
being in my native land once more; and one sunny morning
I took up a pen and wrote her that letter, but why to HER, I
don’t quite know. Sometimes one longs to have a friend near,
and I evidently felt the need of one then,’ added the prince,
and paused.
‘Are you in love with her?’
‘N-no! I wrote to her as to a sister; I signed myself her
brother.’
‘Oh yes, of course, on purpose! I quite understand.’
‘It is very painful to me to answer these questions, Liza-
betha Prokofievna.’
‘I dare say it is; but that’s no affair of mine. Now then, as-
sure me truly as before Heaven, are you lying to me or not?’
‘No, I am not lying.’
‘Are you telling the truth when you say you are not in
love?’
‘I believe it is the absolute truth.’
‘I believe,’ indeed! Did that mischievous urchin give it
to her?’
‘I asked Nicolai Ardalionovitch …’
‘The urchin! the urchin!’ interrupted Lizabetha Proko-
fievna in an angry voice. ‘I do not want to know if it were
Nicolai Ardalionovitch! The urchin!’
‘Nicolai Ardalionovitch …’
‘The urchin, I tell you!’
‘No, it was not the urchin: it was Nicolai Ardalionovitch,’
said the prince very firmly, but without raising his voice.
‘Well, all right! All right, my dear! I shall put that down

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