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a woman— would raise a hand against me now. Even Ga-
nia would hesitate! I did think at one time yesterday, that he
would fly at me, though. I bet anything that I know what you
are thinking of now! You are thinking: ‘Of course one can’t
strike the little wretch, but one could suffocate him with a
pillow, or a wet towel, when he is asleep! One OUGHT to
get rid of him somehow.’ I can see in your face that you are
thinking that at this very second.’
‘I never thought of such a thing for a moment,’ said the
prince, with disgust.
‘I don’t know—I dreamed last night that I was being suf-
focated with a wet cloth by—somebody. I’ll tell you who it
was—Rogojin! What do you think, can a man be suffocated
with a wet cloth?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘I’ve heard so. Well, we’ll leave that question just now.
Why am I a scandal-monger? Why did she call me a scandal-
monger? And mind, AFTER she had heard every word I had
to tell her, and had asked all sorts of questions besides—but
such is the way of women. For HER sake I entered into rela-
tions with Rogojin—an interesting man! At HER request I
arranged a personal interview between herself and Nasta-
sia Philipovna. Could she have been angry because I hinted
that she was enjoying Nastasia Philipovna’s ‘leavings’? Why,
I have been impressing it upon her all this while for her
own good. Two letters have I written her in that strain, and
I began straight off today about its being humiliating for
her. Besides, the word ‘leavings’ is not my invention. At all
events, they all used it at Gania’s, and she used it herself. So