Page 847 - the-idiot

ya, ‘had pierced his heart for ever.’
He could bear it no longer, and with a look of entreaty,
mingled with reproach, he addressed Aglaya, pointing to
Nastasia the while:
‘How can you?’ he murmured; ‘she is so unhappy.’
But he had no time to say another word before. Aglaya’s
terrible look bereft him of speech. In that look was embod-
ied so dreadful a suffering and so deadly a hatred, that he
gave a cry and flew to her; but it was too late.
She could not hold out long enough even to witness his
movement in her direction. She had hidden her face in her
hands, cried once ‘ Oh, my God!’ and rushed out of the
room. Rogojin followed her to undo the bolts of the door
and let her out into the street.
The prince made a rush after her, but he, was caught and
held back. The distorted, livid face of Nastasia gazed at him
reproachfully, and her blue lips whispered:
‘What? Would you go to her—to her?’
She fell senseless into his arms.
He raised her, carried her into the room, placed her in an
armchair, and stood over her, stupefied. On the table stood
a tumbler of water. Rogojin, who now returned, took this
and sprinkled a little in her face. She opened her eyes, but
for a moment she understood nothing.
Suddenly she looked around, shuddered, gave a loud cry,
and threw herself in the prince’s arms.
‘Mine, mine!’ she cried. ‘Has the proud young lady gone?
Ha, ha, ha!’ she laughed hysterically. ‘And I had given him
up to her! Why—why did I? Mad—mad! Get away, Rogojin!

The Idiot