day--afterwards?" she asked, of a sudden.

"What an idea! Of course not. And what are you blushing for again? And
there comes that frown once more! You've taken to looking too gloomy
sometimes, Aglaya, much more than you used to. I know why it is."

"Be quiet, do be quiet!"

"No, no, I had much better speak out. I have long wished to say it, and
HAVE said it, but that's not enough, for you didn't believe me. Between
us two there stands a being who--"

"Be quiet, be quiet, be quiet, be quiet!" Aglaya struck in, suddenly,
seizing his hand in hers, and gazing at him almost in terror.

At this moment she was called by someone. She broke loose from him with
an air of relief and ran away.

The prince was in a fever all night. It was strange, but he had suffered
from fever for several nights in succession. On this particular night,
while in semi-delirium, he had an idea: what if on the morrow he were
to have a fit before everybody? The thought seemed to freeze his blood
within him. All night he fancied himself in some extraordinary society
of strange persons. The worst of it was that he was talking nonsense;
he knew that he ought not to speak at all, and yet he talked the whole
time; he seemed to be trying to persuade them all to something. Evgenie
and Hippolyte were among the guests, and appeared to be great friends.

He awoke towards nine o'clock with a headache, full of confused ideas
and strange impressions. For some reason or other he felt most anxious
to see Rogojin, to see and talk to him, but what he wished to say he
could not tell. Next, he determined to go and see Hippolyte. His mind
was in a confused state, so much so that the incidents of the morning
seemed to be imperfectly realized, though acutely felt.

One of these incidents was a visit from Lebedeff. Lebedeff came rather
early--before ten--but he was tipsy already. Though the prince was not
in an observant condition, yet he could not avoid seeing that for at
least three days--ever since General Ivolgin had left the house Lebedeff
had been behaving very badly. He looked untidy and dirty at all times
of the day, and it was said that he had begun to rage about in his own
house, and that his temper was very bad. As soon as he arrived this
morning, he began to hold forth, beating his breast and apparently
blaming himself for something.

"I've--I've had a reward for my meanness--I've had a slap in the face,"
he concluded, tragically.

"A slap in the face