"I like your sister very much."
"How she spat in Ganka's mug! Brave Varka! But you didn't spit, and I'm sure it's not from lack of courage. Ah, here she is herself, speak of the devil. I knew she'd come: she's noble, though she has some shortcomings."
"You have no business here," Varya fell upon him first of all. "Go to your father. Is he bothering you, Prince?"
"Not at all, on the contrary."
"Well, big sister's off again! That's the bad thing about her. And, by the way, I thought father would be sure to go with Rogozhin. He's probably sorry now. In fact, I should go and see how he is," Kolya added, going out.
"Thank God, I took mama away and put her to bed, and there are no new developments. Ganya is confused and very pensive. And he has reason to be. What a lesson! . . . I've come to thank you once again, Prince, and to ask you: did you know Nastasya Filippovna before?"
"No, I didn't."
"Then what made you tell her to her face that she was 'not like that'? And it seems you guessed right. It appears that she may indeed not be like that. However, I can't make her out! Of course, her aim was to insult us, that's clear. I heard a great many strange things about her even before. But if she came to invite us, why did she start treating mama that way? Ptitsyn knows her very well; he says he couldn't figure her out just now. And with Rogozhin? A woman can't speak like that, if she has any self-respect, in the house of her . . . Mama is also very worried about you."
"It's nothing!" the prince said and waved his hand.
"And how is it she listened to you . . ."
"Listened to what?"
"You told her she was ashamed, and she suddenly changed completely. You have influence over her, Prince," Varya added with a slight smile.
The door opened, and quite unexpectedly Ganya came in.
He did not even hesitate on seeing Varya; for a moment he stood on the threshold and with sudden resoluteness went up to the prince.
"Prince, I acted meanly, forgive me, dear heart," he said suddenly, with strong emotion. The features of his face expressed strong pain. The prince stared in amazement and did not respond at once. "Well, so, forgive me, forgive me!" Ganya insisted impatiently. "Well, if you want, I'll kiss your hand right now."
The prince was extremely surprised and silently embraced Ganya with both arms. The two men kissed each other with sincere feeling.
"I never, never thought you were like this," the prince said at last, barely catching his breath. "I thought you were . . . incapable."
"Of apologizing? . . . And what made me think earlier that you were an idiot? You notice things that other people never notice. One could talk with you, but . . . better not to talk!"
"There's someone else here that you should apologize to," the prince said, pointing to Varya.
"No, they're all my enemies. Rest assured, Prince, I've tried many times; they don't forgive sincerely here!" Ganya burst out hotly and turned away from Varya.
"No, I will forgive you!" Varya said suddenly.
"And go to Nastasya Filippovna's tonight?"
"I will if you tell me to, only you'd better judge for yourself: is it at all possible for me to go now?"
"But she's not like that. See what riddles she sets! Tricks!" And Ganya laughed spitefully.
"I know myself she's not like that and has her tricks, but what tricks? And besides, look, how does she consider you yourself, Ganya? So she kissed mama's hand. So it's some kind of tricks— but she did laugh at you! By God, brother, that's not worth seventy-five thousand! You're still capable of noble feelings, that's why I'm telling you. No, don't go there! Be careful! It can't come to any good!"
Having said this, Varya quickly left the room in great agitation.
"That's how they always are!" said Ganya, smiling. "Can they possibly think I don't know it myself? I know much more than they do."
Having said this, Ganya sat down on the sofa, obviously wishing to prolong his visit.
"If you know it yourself," the prince asked rather timidly, "why have you chosen such a torment, knowing that it's really not worth seventy-five thousand?"
"I wasn't talking about that," Ganya muttered, "but, incidentally, tell me what you think, I precisely want to know your opinion: is this 'torment' worth seventy-five thousand or is it not?"
"To my mind, it's not."
"Well, no news there. And it's shameful to marry like that?"
"Very shameful."
"Well, be it known to you, then, that I am getting married, and it's now quite certain. Earlier today I was still hesitating, but not anymore! Be quiet! I know what you want to say . . ."
"It's not what you think, but I'm very surprised at your extreme assurance. . ."
"About what? Which assurance?"
"That Nastasya Filippovna is certain to accept you, and that it's all concluded, and, second, even if she does, that the seventy-five thousand will go straight into your pocket. Though, of course, there's much here that I don't know."
Ganya made a strong movement towards the prince.
"Of course you don't know everything," he said. "And what would make me take all this burden on myself?"
"It seems to me that it happens all the time: a man marries for money, and the money stays with the wife."
"No, no, it won't be like that with us . . . Here . . . here there are certain circumstances . . ." Ganya murmured in anxious pensiveness. "And as for her answer, there's no doubt about it now," he added quickly. "What makes you conclude that she'll reject me?"
"I know nothing except what I've seen. And Varvara Ardalionovna also said just now . . ."
"Eh! That's nothing, they just don't know what else to say. And she was making fun of Rogozhin, rest assured, that I could see. It was obvious. I was frightened earlier, but now I can see it. Or maybe you mean the way she treated my mother, and my father, and Varya?"
"And you."
"Perhaps. But here it's the age-old woman's revenge and nothing more. She's a terribly irritable, suspicious, and vain woman. Like an official overlooked for promotion! She wanted to show herself and all her contempt for us . . . well, and for me, too—it's true, I don't deny it . . . But she'll marry me all the same. You don't even suspect what tricks human vanity is capable of. Here she considers me a scoundrel because I'm taking her, another man's mistress, so openly for her money, but she doesn't know that another man could dupe her in a more scoundrelly way: he'd get at her and start pouring out liberal and progressive stuff, all drawn from various women's questions, and he'd have the whole of her slip right through the needle's eye like a thread. He'd convince the vain fool (and so easily!) that he's taking her only 'for the nobility of her heart and her misfortunes,' and marry her for her money all the same. She doesn't like me, because I don't want to shuffle; it would be fine if I did. And what's she doing herself? Isn't it the same? Why, then, does she go scorning me and playing all these games? Because I show my pride and don't give in. Well, we'll see!"
"Did you really love her before this?"
"In the beginning I loved her. Well, enough . . . There are women who are only fit to be mistresses and nothing else. I'm not saying she was my mistress. If she wants to live quietly, I'll live quietly, too. If she rebels, I'll drop her at once and take the money with me. I don't want to be ridiculous; above all I don't want to be ridiculous."
"I keep thinking," the prince observed cautiously, "that Nastasya Filippovna is intelligent. If she anticipates such torment, why should she walk into the trap? She could marry somebody else. That's what surprises me."