her daughter's hair, which was not in the least disordered,
and gave her a kiss. This was all that she had called her for.

"I thought you were capable of development," said Hippolyte, coming out
of his fit of abstraction. "Yes, that is what I meant to say," he added,
with the satisfaction of one who suddenly remembers something he had
forgotten. "Here is Burdovsky, sincerely anxious to protect his mother;
is not that so? And he himself is the cause of her disgrace. The prince
is anxious to help Burdovsky and offers him friendship and a large sum
of money, in the sincerity of his heart. And here they stand like two
sworn enemies--ha, ha, ha! You all hate Burdovsky because his behaviour
with regard to his mother is shocking and repugnant to you; do you not?
Is not that true? Is it not true? You all have a passion for beauty and
distinction in outward forms; that is all you care for, isn't it? I have
suspected for a long time that you cared for nothing else! Well, let me
tell you that perhaps there is not one of you who loved your mother as
Burdovsky loved his. As to you, prince, I know that you have sent money
secretly to Burdovsky's mother through Gania. Well, I bet now," he
continued with an hysterical laugh, "that Burdovsky will accuse you of
indelicacy, and reproach you with a want of respect for his mother! Yes,
that is quite certain! Ha, ha, ha!"

He caught his breath, and began to cough once more.

"Come, that is enough! That is all now; you have no more to say? Now
go to bed; you are burning with fever," said Lizabetha Prokofievna
impatiently. Her anxious eyes had never left the invalid. "Good heavens,
he is going to begin again!"

"You are laughing, I think? Why do you keep laughing at me?" said
Hippolyte irritably to Evgenie Pavlovitch, who certainly was laughing.

"I only want to know, Mr. Hippolyte--excuse me, I forget your surname."

"Mr. Terentieff," said the prince.

"Oh yes, Mr. Terentieff. Thank you prince. I heard it just now, but had
forgotten it. I want to know, Mr. Terentieff, if what I have heard about
you is true. It seems you are convinced that if you could speak to the
people from a window for a quarter of an hour, you could make them all
adopt your views and follow you?"

"I may have said so," answered Hippolyte, as if trying to remember.
"Yes, I certainly said so," he continued with sudden animation, fixing
an unflinching glance on his questioner. "What of it?"

"Nothing. I was only se