f Rome says.

"This letter should be sent on at once," said the prince, disturbed.
"I'll hand it over myself."

"Wouldn't it be better, esteemed prince, wouldn't it be
better--to--don't you know--"

Lebedeff made a strange and very expressive grimace; he twisted about in
his chair, and did something, apparently symbolical, with his hands.

"What do you mean?" said the prince.

"Why, open it, for the time being, don't you know?" he said, most
confidentially and mysteriously.

The prince jumped up so furiously that Lebedeff ran towards the door;
having gained which strategic position, however, he stopped and looked
back to see if he might hope for pardon.

"Oh, Lebedeff, Lebedeff! Can a man really sink to such depths of
meanness?" said the prince, sadly.

Lebedeff's face brightened.

"Oh, I'm a mean wretch--a mean wretch!" he said, approaching the prince
once more, and beating his breast, with tears in his eyes.

"It's abominable dishonesty, you know!"

"Dishonesty--it is, it is! That's the very word!"

"What in the world induces you to act so? You are nothing but a spy.
Why did you write anonymously to worry so noble and generous a lady? Why
should not Aglaya Ivanovna write a note to whomever she pleases? What
did you mean to complain of today? What did you expect to get by it?
What made you go at all?"

"Pure amiable curiosity,--I assure you--desire to do a service. That's
all. Now I'm entirely yours again, your slave; hang me if you like!"

"Did you go before Lizabetha Prokofievna in your present condition?"
inquired the prince.

"No--oh no, fresher--more the correct card. I only became this like
after the humiliation I suffered there,

"Well--that'll do; now leave me."

This injunction had to be repeated several times before the man could be
persuaded to move. Even then he turned back at the door, came as far as
the middle of the room, and there went through his mysterious motions
designed to convey the suggestion that the prince should open the
letter. He did not dare put his suggestion into words again.

After this performance, he smiled sweetly and left the room on tiptoe.

All this had been very painful to listen to. One fact stood out certain
and clear, and that was that poor Aglaya must be in a state of great
distress and indecision and mental torment ("from jealousy," the prince
whispered to himself). Undoubtedly in this inexperienced, but hot and
proud little head, there were all sorts