to-to praise you
for one thing--I also wished to show you that I knew all--and did not
approve of your conduct."

"You are very unfair to me, and to that unfortunate woman of whom you
spoke just now in such dreadful terms, Aglaya."

"Because I know all, all--and that is why I speak so. I know very well
how you--half a year since--offered her your hand before everybody.
Don't interrupt me. You see, I am merely stating facts without any
comment upon them. After that she ran away with Rogojin. Then you lived
with her at some village or town, and she ran away from you." (Aglaya
blushed dreadfully.) "Then she returned to Rogojin again, who loves
her like a madman. Then you--like a wise man as you are--came back here
after her as soon as ever you heard that she had returned to Petersburg.
Yesterday evening you sprang forward to protect her, and just now you
dreamed about her. You see, I know all. You did come back here for her,
for her--now didn't you?"

"Yes--for her!" said the prince softly and sadly, and bending his head
down, quite unconscious of the fact that Aglaya was gazing at him with
eyes which burned like live coals. "I came to find out something--I
don't believe in her future happiness as Rogojin's wife, although--in a
word, I did not know how to help her or what to do for her--but I came,
on the chance."

He glanced at Aglaya, who was listening with a look of hatred on her
face.

"If you came without knowing why, I suppose you love her very much
indeed!" she said at last.

"No," said the prince, "no, I do not love her. Oh! if you only knew with
what horror I recall the time I spent with her!"

A shudder seemed to sweep over his whole body at the recollection.

"Tell me about it," said Aglaya.

"There is nothing which you might not hear. Why I should wish to tell
you, and only you, this experience of mine, I really cannot say;
perhaps it really is because I love you very much. This unhappy woman is
persuaded that she is the most hopeless, fallen creature in the world.
Oh, do not condemn her! Do not cast stones at her! She has suffered too
much already in the consciousness of her own undeserved shame.

"And she is not guilty--oh God!--Every moment she bemoans and bewails
herself, and cries out that she does not admit any guilt, that she is
the victim of circumstances--the victim of a wicked libertine.

"But whatever she may say, remember that she does not believe it
herself,--remember that she will b