Page 672 - the-idiot

I know that once when your sister Adelaida saw my por-
trait she said that such beauty could overthrow the world.
But I have renounced the world. You think it strange that
I should say so, for you saw me decked with lace and dia-
monds, in the company of drunkards and wastrels. Take
no notice of that; I know that I have almost ceased to ex-
ist. God knows what it is dwelling within me now—it is not
myself. I can see it every day in two dreadful eyes which are
always looking at me, even when not present. These eyes are
silent now, they say nothing; but I know their secret. His
house is gloomy, and there is a secret in it. I am convinced
that in some box he has a razor hidden, tied round with silk,
just like the one that Moscow murderer had. This man also
lived with his mother, and had a razor hidden away, tied
round with white silk, and with this razor he intended to
cut a throat.
‘All the while I was in their house I felt sure that some-
where beneath the floor there was hidden away some
dreadful corpse, wrapped in oil-cloth, perhaps buried there
by his father, who knows? Just as in the Moscow case. I
could have shown you the very spot!
‘He is always silent, but I know well that he loves me so
much that he must hate me. My wedding and yours are to
be on the same day; so I have arranged with him. I have no
secrets from him. I would kill him from very fright, but he
will kill me first. He has just burst out laughing, and says
that I am raving. He knows I am writing to you.’
There was much more of this delirious wandering in the
letters— one of them was very long.

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