Page 702 - the-brothers-karamazov

He was almost choking. There was so much, so much he
wanted to say, but strange exclamations were all that came
from his lips. The Pole gazed fixedly at him, at the bundle
of notes in his hand; looked at Grushenka, and was in evi-
dent perplexity.
‘If my suverin lady is permitting — ‘ he was beginning.
‘What does ‘suverin’ mean? ‘Sovereign,’ I suppose?’ in-
terrupted Grushenka. ‘I can’t help laughing at you, the way
you talk. Sit down, Mitya, what are you talking about? Don’t
frighten us, please. You won’t frighten us, will you? If you
won’t, I am glad to see you..’
‘Me, me frighten you?’ cried Mitya, flinging up his hands.
‘Oh, pass me by, go your way, I won’t hinder you!..’
And suddenly he surprised them all, and no doubt him-
self as well, by flinging himself on a chair, and bursting into
tears, turning his head away to the opposite wall, while his
arms clasped the back of the chair tight, as though embrac-
ing it.
‘Come, come, what a fellow you are!’ cried Grushenka
reproachfully. ‘That’s just how he comes to see me — he be-
gins talking, and I can’t make out what he means. He cried
like that once before, and now he’s crying again! It’s shame-
full Why are you crying? As though you had anything to
cry for!’ she added enigmatically, emphasising each word
with some irritability.
‘I... I’m not crying.... Well, good evening!’ He instantly
turned round in his chair, and suddenly laughed, not his
abrupt wooden laugh, but a long, quivering, inaudible ner-
vous laugh.

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