out. It is true,
it is an abominable business, as you say. I might have married long ago,
not Gania--Oh, no!--but that would have been abominable too.

"Would you believe it, I had some thoughts of marrying Totski, four
years ago! I meant mischief, I confess--but I could have had him, I give
you my word; he asked me himself. But I thought, no! it's not worthwhile
to take such advantage of him. No! I had better go on to the streets, or
accept Rogojin, or become a washerwoman or something--for I have nothing
of my own, you know. I shall go away and leave everything behind, to
the last rag--he shall have it all back. And who would take me without
anything? Ask Gania, there, whether he would. Why, even Ferdishenko
wouldn't have me!"

"No, Ferdishenko would not; he is a candid fellow, Nastasia Philipovna,"
said that worthy. "But the prince would. You sit here making complaints,
but just look at the prince. I've been observing him for a long while."

Nastasia Philipovna looked keenly round at the prince.

"Is that true?" she asked.

"Quite true," whispered the prince.

"You'll take me as I am, with nothing?"

"I will, Nastasia Philipovna."

"Here's a pretty business!" cried the general. "However, it might have
been expected of him."

The prince continued to regard Nastasia with a sorrowful, but intent and
piercing, gaze.

"Here's another alternative for me," said Nastasia, turning once more to
the actress; "and he does it out of pure kindness of heart. I know him.
I've found a benefactor. Perhaps, though, what they say about him may be
true--that he's an--we know what. And what shall you live on, if you are
really so madly in love with Rogojin's mistress, that you are ready to
marry her--eh?"

"I take you as a good, honest woman, Nastasia Philipovna--not as
Rogojin's mistress."

"Who? I?--good and honest?"

"Yes, you."

"Oh, you get those ideas out of novels, you know. Times are changed
now, dear prince; the world sees things as they really are. That's all
nonsense. Besides, how can you marry? You need a nurse, not a wife."

The prince rose and began to speak in a trembling, timid tone, but with
the air of a man absolutely sure of the truth of his words.

"I know nothing, Nastasia Philipovna. I have seen nothing. You are right
so far; but I consider that you would be honouring me, and not I you. I
am a nobody. You have suffered, you have passed through hell and emerged
pure, and that is very much. Why do