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    Chapter 36

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    Part III
    Chapter VIII

    She laughed, but she was rather angry too.

    "He's asleep! You were asleep," she said, with contemptuous surprise.

    "Is it really you?" muttered the prince, not quite himself as yet, and recognizing her with a start of amazement. "Oh yes, of course," he added, "this is our rendezvous. I fell asleep here."

    "So I saw."

    "Did no one awake me besides yourself? Was there no one else here? I thought there was another woman."

    "There was another woman here?"

    At last he was wide awake.

    "It was a dream, of course," he said, musingly. "Strange that I should have a dream like that at such a moment. Sit down--"

    He took her hand and seated her on the bench; then sat down beside her and reflected.

    Aglaya did not begin the conversation, but contented herself with watching her companion intently.

    He looked back at her, but at times it was clear that he did not see her and was not thinking of her.

    Aglaya began to flush up.

    "Oh yes!" cried the prince, starting. "Hippolyte's suicide--"

    "What? At your house?" she asked, but without much surprise. "He was alive yesterday evening, wasn't he? How could you sleep here after that?" she cried, growing suddenly animated.

    "Oh, but he didn't kill himself; the pistol didn't go off." Aglaya insisted on hearing the whole story. She hurried the prince along, but interrupted him with all sorts of questions, nearly all of which were irrelevant. Among other things, she seemed greatly interested in every word that Evgenie Pavlovitch had said, and made the prince repeat that part of the story over and over again.

    "Well, that'll do; we must be quick," she concluded, after hearing all. "We have only an hour here, till eight; I must be home by then without fail, so that they may not find out that I came and sat here with you; but I've come on business. I have a great deal to say to you. But you have bowled me over considerably with your news. As to Hippolyte, I think his pistol was bound not to go off; it was more consistent with the whole affair. Are you sure he really wished to blow his brains out, and that there was no humbug about the matter?"

    "No humbug at all."

    "Very likely. So he wrote that you were to bring me a copy of his confession, did he? Why didn't you bring it?"


    "Why, he didn't die! I'll ask him for it, if you like."

    "Bring it by all means; you needn't ask him. He will be delighted, you may be sure; for, in all probability, he shot at himself simply in order that I might read his confession. Don't laugh at what I say, please, Lef Nicolaievitch, because it may very well be the case."

    "I'm not laughing. I am convinced, myself, that that may have been partly the reason.

    "You are convinced? You don't really mean to say you think that honestly?" asked Aglaya,
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