Page 784 - the-idiot

‘Did you go before Lizabetha Prokofievna in your present
condition?’ inquired the prince.
‘No—oh no, fresher—more the correct card. I only be-
came this like after the humiliation I suffered there,
‘Well—that’ll do; now leave me.’
This injunction had to be repeated several times before
the man could be persuaded to move. Even then he turned
back at the door, came as far as the middle of the room, and
there went through his mysterious motions designed to
convey the suggestion that the prince should open the let-
ter. He did not dare put his suggestion into words again.
After this performance, he smiled sweetly and left the
room on tiptoe.
All this had been very painful to listen to. One fact stood
out certain and clear, and that was that poor Aglaya must
be in a state of great distress and indecision and mental tor-
ment (“from jealousy,’ the prince whispered to himself).
Undoubtedly in this inexperienced, but hot and proud little
head, there were all sorts of plans forming, wild and im-
possible plans, maybe; and the idea of this so frightened
the prince that he could not make up his mind what to do.
Something must be done, that was clear.
He looked at the address on the letter once more. Oh, he
was not in the least degree alarmed about Aglaya writing
such a letter; he could trust her. What he did not like about
it was that he could not trust Gania.
However, he made up his mind that he would himself
take the note and deliver it. Indeed, he went so far as to
leave the house and walk up the road, but changed his mind