Page 843 - the-idiot

in the satisfaction of revenge.
It was strange, Nastasia Philipovna felt, to see Aglaya
like this. She gazed at her, and could hardly believe her eyes
and ears for a moment or two.
Whether she were a woman who had read too many po-
ems, as Evgenie Pavlovitch supposed, or whether she were
mad, as the prince had assured Aglaya, at all events, this
was a woman who, in spite of her occasionally cynical and
audacious manner, was far more refined and trustful and
sensitive than appeared. There was a certain amount of ro-
mantic dreaminess and caprice in her, but with the fantastic
was mingled much that was strong and deep.
The prince realized this, and great suffering expressed
itself in his face.
Aglaya observed it, and trembled with anger.
‘How dare you speak so to me?’ she said, with a haughti-
ness which was quite indescribable, replying to Nastasia’s
last remark.
‘You must have misunderstood what I said,’ said Nastasia,
in some surprise.
‘If you wished to preserve your good name, why did you
not give up your—your ‘guardian,’ Totski, without all that
theatrical posturing?’ said Aglaya, suddenly a propos of
nothing.
‘What do you know of my position, that you dare to judge
me?’ cried Nastasia, quivering with rage, and growing ter-
ribly white.
‘I know this much, that you did not go out to honest work,
but went away with a rich man, Rogojin, in order to pose as

The Idiot