roubled.

"He doesn't ask for money, it's true, but yet he won't get a farthing from
me. I intend living as long as possible, you may as well know, my dear
Alexey Fyodorovitch, and so I need every farthing, and the longer I live,
the more I shall need it," he continued, pacing from one corner of the
room to the other, keeping his hands in the pockets of his loose greasy
overcoat made of yellow cotton material. "I can still pass for a man at
five and fifty, but I want to pass for one for another twenty years. As I
get older, you know, I shan't be a pretty object. The wenches won't come
to me of their own accord, so I shall want my money. So I am saving up
more and more, simply for myself, my dear son Alexey Fyodorovitch. You may
as well know. For I mean to go on in my sins to the end, let me tell you.
For sin is sweet; all abuse it, but all men live in it, only others do it
on the sly, and I openly. And so all the other sinners fall upon me for
being so simple. And your paradise, Alexey Fyodorovitch, is not to my
taste, let me tell you that; and it's not the proper place for a
gentleman, your paradise, even if it exists. I believe that I fall asleep
and don't wake up again, and that's all. You can pray for my soul if you
like. And if you don't want to, don't, damn you! That's my philosophy.
Ivan talked well here yesterday, though we were all drunk. Ivan is a
conceited coxcomb, but he has no particular learning ... nor education
either. He sits silent and smiles at one without speaking--that's what
pulls him through."

Alyosha listened to him in silence.

"Why won't he talk to me? If he does speak, he gives himself airs. Your
Ivan is a scoundrel! And I'll marry Grushenka in a minute if I want to.
For if you've money, Alexey Fyodorovitch, you have only to want a thing
and you can have it. That's what Ivan is afraid of, he is on the watch to
prevent me getting married and that's why he is egging on Mitya to marry
Grushenka himself. He hopes to keep me from Grushenka by that (as though I
should leave him my money if I don't marry her!). Besides if Mitya marries
Grushenka, Ivan will carry off his rich betrothed, that's what he's
reckoning on! He is a scoundrel, your Ivan!"

"How cross you are! It's because of yesterday; you had better lie down,"
said Alyosha.

"There! you say that," the old man observed suddenly, as though it had
struck him for the first time, "and I am not angry with you. But if Ivan
said it, I should b