ll, too," observed Pyotr
Ilyitch, who still continued to stand, and was obviously anxious to escape
as quickly as possible from the impulsive lady, who would not let him say
good-by and go away.

"And be sure, be sure," she prattled on, "to come back and tell me what
you see there, and what you find out ... what comes to light ... how
they'll try him ... and what he's condemned to.... Tell me, we have no
capital punishment, have we? But be sure to come, even if it's at three
o'clock at night, at four, at half-past four.... Tell them to wake me, to
wake me, to shake me, if I don't get up.... But, good heavens, I shan't
sleep! But wait, hadn't I better come with you?"

"N--no. But if you would write three lines with your own hand, stating that
you did not give Dmitri Fyodorovitch money, it might, perhaps, be of use
... in case it's needed...."

"To be sure!" Madame Hohlakov skipped, delighted, to her bureau. "And you
know I'm simply struck, amazed at your resourcefulness, your good sense in
such affairs. Are you in the service here? I'm delighted to think that
you're in the service here!"

And still speaking, she scribbled on half a sheet of notepaper the
following lines:

I've never in my life lent to that unhappy man, Dmitri
Fyodorovitch Karamazov (for, in spite of all, he is unhappy),
three thousand roubles to-day. I've never given him money, never:
That I swear by all that's holy!

K. HOHLAKOV.

"Here's the note!" she turned quickly to Pyotr Ilyitch. "Go, save him.
It's a noble deed on your part!"

And she made the sign of the cross three times over him. She ran out to
accompany him to the passage.

"How grateful I am to you! You can't think how grateful I am to you for
having come to me, first. How is it I haven't met you before? I shall feel
flattered at seeing you at my house in the future. How delightful it is
that you are living here!... Such precision! Such practical ability!...
They must appreciate you, they must understand you. If there's anything I
can do, believe me ... oh, I love young people! I'm in love with young
people! The younger generation are the one prop of our suffering country.
Her one hope.... Oh, go, go!..."

But Pyotr Ilyitch had already run away or she would not have let him go so
soon. Yet Madame Hohlakov had made a rather agreeable impression on him,
which had somewhat softened his anxiety at being drawn into such an
unpleasant affair. Tastes differ, as