inued to shudder.

"It's hot weather, you see," continued Rogojin, as he lay down on the
cushions beside Muishkin, "and, naturally, there will be a smell. I
daren't open the window. My mother has some beautiful flowers in pots;
they have a delicious scent; I thought of fetching them in, but that old
servant will find out, she's very inquisitive.

"Yes, she is inquisitive," assented the prince.

"I thought of buying flowers, and putting them all round her; but I was
afraid it would make us sad to see her with flowers round her."

"Look here," said the prince; he was bewildered, and his brain wandered.
He seemed to be continually groping for the questions he wished to ask,
and then losing them. "Listen--tell me--how did you--with a knife?--That
same one?"

"Yes, that same one."

"Wait a minute, I want to ask you something else, Parfen; all sorts of
things; but tell me first, did you intend to kill her before my wedding,
at the church door, with your knife?"

"I don't know whether I did or not," said Rogojin, drily, seeming to be
a little astonished at the question, and not quite taking it in.

"Did you never take your knife to Pavlofsk with you?" "No. As to the
knife," he added, "this is all I can tell you about it." He was silent
for a moment, and then said, "I took it out of the locked drawer this
morning about three, for it was in the early morning all this--happened.
It has been inside the book ever since--and--and--this is what is such
a marvel to me, the knife only went in a couple of inches at most, just
under her left breast, and there wasn't more than half a tablespoonful
of blood altogether, not more."

"Yes--yes--yes--" The prince jumped up in extraordinary agitation.
"I know, I know, I've read of that sort of thing--it's internal
haemorrhage, you know. Sometimes there isn't a drop--if the blow goes
straight to the heart--"

"Wait--listen!" cried Rogojin, suddenly, starting up. "Somebody's
walking about, do you hear? In the hall." Both sat up to listen.

"I hear," said the prince in a whisper, his eyes fixed on Rogojin.

"Footsteps?"

"Yes."

"Shall we shut the door, and lock it, or not?"

"Yes, lock it."

They locked the door, and both lay down again. There was a long silence.

"Yes, by-the-by," whispered the prince, hurriedly and excitedly as
before, as though he had just seized hold of an idea and was afraid of
losing it again. "I--I wanted those cards! They say you played cards
with he