alionovna came in search of her brother, and remained
for a few minutes. Without Muishkin's asking her, she informed him that
Evgenie Pavlovitch was spending the day in Petersburg, and perhaps would
remain there over tomorrow; and that her husband had also gone to town,
probably in connection with Evgenie Pavlovitch's affairs.

"Lizabetha Prokofievna is in a really fiendish temper today," she
added, as she went out, "but the most curious thing is that Aglaya has
quarrelled with her whole family; not only with her father and mother,
but with her sisters also. It is not a good sign." She said all this
quite casually, though it was extremely important in the eyes of
the prince, and went off with her brother. Regarding the episode of
"Pavlicheff's son," Gania had been absolutely silent, partly from a kind
of false modesty, partly, perhaps, to "spare the prince's feelings." The
latter, however, thanked him again for the trouble he had taken in the
affair.

Muishkin was glad enough to be left alone. He went out of the garden,
crossed the road, and entered the park. He wished to reflect, and to
make up his mind as to a certain "step." This step was one of those
things, however, which are not thought out, as a rule, but decided for
or against hastily, and without much reflection. The fact is, he felt a
longing to leave all this and go away--go anywhere, if only it were
far enough, and at once, without bidding farewell to anyone. He felt a
presentiment that if he remained but a few days more in this place, and
among these people, he would be fixed there irrevocably and permanently.
However, in a very few minutes he decided that to run away was
impossible; that it would be cowardly; that great problems lay before
him, and that he had no right to leave them unsolved, or at least to
refuse to give all his energy and strength to the attempt to solve them.
Having come to this determination, he turned and went home, his walk
having lasted less than a quarter of an hour. At that moment he was
thoroughly unhappy.

Lebedeff had not returned, so towards evening Keller managed to
penetrate into the prince's apartments. He was not drunk, but in a
confidential and talkative mood. He announced that he had come to tell
the story of his life to Muishkin, and had only remained at Pavlofsk for
that purpose. There was no means of turning him out; nothing short of an
earthquake would have removed him.

In the manner of one with long hours befor