Page 820 - the-idiot

sible as a husband for Aglaya; and during the ensuing night
she made a vow that never while she lived should he marry
Aglaya. With this resolve firmly impressed upon her mind,
she awoke next day; but during the morning, after her early
lunch, she fell into a condition of remarkable inconsistency.
In reply to a very guarded question of her sisters’, Aglaya
had answered coldly, but exceedingly haughtily:
‘I have never given him my word at all, nor have I ever
counted him as my future husband—never in my life. He is
just as little to me as all the rest.’
Lizabetha Prokofievna suddenly flared up.
‘I did not expect that of you, Aglaya,’ she said. ‘He is an
impossible husband for you,—I know it; and thank God
that we agree upon that point; but I did not expect to hear
such words from you. I thought I should hear a very differ-
ent tone from you. I would have turned out everyone who
was in the room last night and kept him,—that’s the sort of
man he is, in my opinion!’
Here she suddenly paused, afraid of what she had just
said. But she little knew how unfair she was to her daughter
at that moment. It was all settled in Aglaya’s mind. She was
only waiting for the hour that would bring the matter to a
final climax; and every hint, every careless probing of her
wound, did but further lacerate her heart.

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