She seemed almost delirious.
There was a noise in the passage Mavra seemed to be wrangling with some one.
“Stay, Natasha, who’s that?” I asked. “Listen.”
She listened with an incredulous smile, and suddenly turned fearfully white.
“My God!
Who’s there?” she said, almost inaudibly.
She tried to detain me, but I went into the passage to Mavra.
Yes!
It actually was Alyosha.
He was questioning Mavra about something. She refused at first to admit him.
“Where have you turned up from?” she asked, with an air of authority.
“Well, what have you been up to?
All right, then, go in, go in!
You won’t come it over me with your butter!
Go in! I wonder what you’ve to say for yourself!”
“I’m not afraid of anyone!
I’m going in!” said Alyosha, somewhat disconcerted, however.
“Well, go in then!
You’re a saucebox!”
“Well, I’m going in!
Ah! you’re here, too!” he said, catching sight of me. “How nice it is that you’re here Well, here I am, you see.... What had I better do?”
“Simply go in,” I answered. “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything, I assure you, for upon my word I’m not to blame.
You think I’m to blame?
You’ll see; I’ll explain it directly.
Natasha, can I come in?” he cried with a sort of assumed boldness, standing before the closed door.
No one answered.
“What’s the matter?” he asked uneasily.
“Nothing; she was in there just now,” I answered. “Can anything ...”
Alyosha opened the door cautiously and looked timidly about the room.
There was no one to be seen.
Suddenly he caught sight of her in the corner, between the cupboard and the window.
She stood as though in hiding, more dead than alive.
As I recall it now I can’t help smiling.
Alyosha went up to her slowly and warily.
“Natasha, what is it?
How are you, Natasha?” he brought out timidly, looking at her with a sort of dismay.
“Oh, it’s all right!” she answered in terrible confusion, as though she were in fault.
“You ... will you have some tea?”
“Natasha, listen.” Alyosha began, utterly overwhelmed.
“You’re convinced perhaps that I’m to blame. But I’m not, not a bit.
You’ll see; I’ll tell you directly.”
“What for?” Natasha whispered. “No, no, you needn’t.... Come, give me your hand and . . . it’s over . . . the same as before. . . .” And she came out of the corner. A flush began to come into her cheeks.
She looked down as though she were afraid to glance at Alyosha.
“Good God!” he cried ecstatically. “If I really were to blame I shouldn’t dare look at her after that.
Look, look!” he exclaimed, turning to me, “she thinks I am to blame; everything’s against me; all appearances are against me!
I haven’t been here for five days!
There are rumours that I’m with my betrothed – and what?
She has forgiven me already!
Already she says,