Page 718 - the-brothers-karamazov

‘Double! Double!’ Mitya doubled his stakes, and each
time he doubled the stake, the card he doubled was trumped
by the Poles. The rouble stakes kept winning.
‘On the double!’ shouted Mitya furiously.
‘You’ve lost two hundred, panie. Will you stake another
hundred?’ the Pole on the sofa inquired.
‘What? Lost two hundred already? Then another two
hundred! All doubles!’ And pulling his money out of his
pocket, Mitya was about to fling two hundred roubles on
the queen, but Kalgonov covered it with his hand.
‘That’s enough!’ he shouted in his ringing voice.
‘What’s the matter?’ Mitya stared at him.
‘That’s enough! I don’t want you to play anymore. Don’t!’
‘Why?’
‘Because I don’t. Hang it, come away. That’s why. I won’t
let you go on playing.’
Mitya gazed at him in astonishment.
‘Give it up, Mitya. He may be right. You’ve lost a lot as it
is,’ said Grushenka, with a curious note in her voice. Both
the Poles rose from their seats with a deeply offended air.
‘Are you joking, panie?’ said the short man, looking se-
verely at Kalganov.
‘How dare you!’ Pan Vrublevsky, too, growled at Kal-
ganov.
‘Don’t dare to shout like that,’ cried Grushenka. ‘Ah, you
turkey-cocks!’
Mitya looked at each of them in turn. But something in
Grushenka’s face suddenly struck him, and at the same in-
stant something new flashed into his mind — a strange new

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