Page 779 - the-idiot

He awoke towards nine o’clock with a headache, full of
confused ideas and strange impressions. For some reason
or other he felt most anxious to see Rogojin, to see and talk
to him, but what he wished to say he could not tell. Next, he
determined to go and see Hippolyte. His mind was in a con-
fused state, so much so that the incidents of the morning
seemed to be imperfectly realized, though acutely felt.
One of these incidents was a visit from Lebedeff. Lebe-
deff came rather early—before ten—but he was tipsy already.
Though the prince was not in an observant condition, yet
he could not avoid seeing that for at least three days—ever
since General Ivolgin had left the house Lebedeff had been
behaving very badly. He looked untidy and dirty at all times
of the day, and it was said that he had begun to rage about in
his own house, and that his temper was very bad. As soon as
he arrived this morning, he began to hold forth, beating his
breast and apparently blaming himself for something.
‘I’ve—I’ve had a reward for my meanness—I’ve had a slap
in the face,’ he concluded, tragically.
‘A slap in the face? From whom? And so early in the
morning?’
‘Early?’ said Lebedeff, sarcastically. ‘Time counts for
nothing, even in physical chastisement; but my slap in the
face was not physical, it was moral.’
He suddenly took a seat, very unceremoniously, and be-
gan his story. It was very disconnected; the prince frowned,
and wished he could get away; but suddenly a few words
struck him. He sat stiff with wonder—Lebedeff said some
extraordinary things.

The Idiot