A minute later I was sitting beside her.
At first she kept watching me intently as though saying to herself: “So that’s what you’re like,” and for the first minute neither of us could find words to begin our conversation.
I felt sure though that when once she began she would be ready to go on without stopping till next morning.
The “five or six hours talk” of which Alyosha had spoken came back to my mind.
Alyosha sat by us, waiting impatiently for us to begin.
“Why don’t you say something?” he began, looking at us with a smile.
“They come together and sit silent.”
“Ach, Alyosha, how can you . . . we’ll begin directly,” answered Katya.
“We have so much to talk over together, Ivan Petrovitch, that I don’t know where to begin.
We’ve been late in getting to know one another; we ought to have met long ago, though I’ve known you for ages.
And I was very anxious to see you!
I was even thinking of writing you a letter . . .”
“What about?” I asked, smiling involuntarily.
“Ever so many things,” she answered earnestly.
“Why, if only to know whether it’s true what Alyosha says, that Natalya Nikolaevna is not hurt at his leaving her alone at such a time.
Can anyone behave as he does?
Why are you here now, tell me that, please?”
“Why, good heavens, I’m just going!
I just said that I should only be here for a minute, simply to look at you two and see how you talk to one another, and then I’ll be off to Natasha.”
“Well, here we are together, we’re sitting here, do you see?
He’s always like that,” she added, flushing a little and pointing her finger at him. “‘One minute,’ he always says, ‘just one minute’ and, mind, he’ll stay on till midnight and then it’s too late to go there.
‘She won’t be angry,’ he says, ‘she’s kind.’ That’s how he looks at it.
Is that right? Is that generous?”
“Well, I’ll go if you like,” Alyosha responded plaintively, “but I do want dreadfully to stay with you two. . . .”
“What do you want with us?
On the contrary we must talk of lots of things alone.
Listen, don’t be cross. It’s necessary – take that in thoroughly.”
“If it’s necessary I’ll be off at once – what is there to be cross at?
I’ll just look in for a minute on Levinka, and then go on to her at once.
I say, Ivan Petrovitch,” he added, taking up his hat to go, “do you know that my father wants to refuse to take the money he won by his lawsuit with Ichmenyev?
“I know. He told me.”
“How generous he is in doing that.
Katya won’t believe that he’s acting generously.
Talk to her about that.
Goodbye, Katya, and please don’t doubt that I love Natasha.
And why do you both always tie me down like this, scold me, and look after me – as though you had to watch over me?
She knows how I love her, and is sure of me, and I’m sure that she’s sure of me.
I love her, apart from anything, apart from any obligations.
I don’t know how I love her, I simply love her.
And so there’s no need to question me as though I were to blame.
You can ask Ivan Petrovitch, he’s here now and he will confirm what I say, that Natasha’s jealous, and though she loves me so much there’s a great deal of egoism in her love, for she will never sacrifice anything for me.”
“What’s that?” I asked in amazement, hardly able to believe my ears.
“What are you saying, Alyosha?” Katya almost screamed, clasping her hands.
“Why, what is there so surprising in that?
Ivan Petrovitch knows it.
She’s always insisting that I should stay with her.
Not that she insists, exactly, but one can see that’s what she wants.”
“Aren’t you ashamed? Aren’t you ashamed?” said Katya, turning crimson with anger.
“What is there to be ashamed of?
What a person you are, really, Katya!