It's her own doing.
She deserves what she gets.
I shall have my own story to tell, Alexey." He smiled bitterly again. "Only... only Grusha, Grusha! Good Lord!
Why should she have such suffering to bear?" he exclaimed suddenly, with tears. "Grusha's killing me; the thought of her's killing me, killing me.
She was with me just now..."
"She told me she was very much grieved by you to-day."
"I know.
Confound my temper!
It was jealousy.
I was sorry, I kissed her as she was going.
I didn't ask her forgiveness."
"Why didn't you?" exclaimed Alyosha.
Suddenly Mitya laughed almost mirthfully.
"God preserve you, my dear boy, from ever asking forgiveness for a fault from a woman you love.
From one you love especially, however greatly you may have been in fault.
For a woman- devil only knows what to make of a woman! I know something about them, anyway.
But try acknowledging you are in fault to a woman. Say, 'I am sorry, forgive me,' and a shower of reproaches will follow!
Nothing will make her forgive you simply and directly, she'll humble you to the dust, bring forward things that have never happened, recall everything, forget nothing, add something of her own, and only then forgive you.
And even the best, the best of them do it.
She'll scrape up all the scrapings and load them on your head. They are ready to flay you alive, I tell you, every one of them, all these angels without whom we cannot live!
I tell you plainly and openly, dear boy, every decent man ought to be under some woman's thumb.
That's my conviction- not conviction, but feeling.
A man ought to be magnanimous, and it's no disgrace to a man!
No disgrace to a hero, not even a Caesar!
But don't ever beg her pardon all the same for anything.
Remember that rule given you by your brother Mitya, who's come to ruin through women.
No, I'd better make it up to Grusha somehow, without begging pardon.
I worship her, Alexey, worship her.
Only she doesn't see it. No, she still thinks I don't love her enough.
And she tortures me, tortures me with her love.
The past was nothing!
In the past it was only those infernal curves of hers that tortured me, but now I've taken all her soul into my soul and through her I've become a man myself.
Will they marry us?
If they don't, I shall die of jealousy.
I imagine something every day.... What did she say to you about me?"
Alyosha repeated all Grushenka had said to him that day.
Mitya listened, made him repeat things, and seemed pleased.
"Then she is not angry at my being jealous?" he exclaimed. "She is a regular woman!
'I've a fierce heart myself!'
Ah, I love such fierce hearts, though I can't bear anyone's being jealous of me. I can't endure it.
We shall fight.
But I shall love her, I shall love her infinitely.
Will they marry us?
Do they let convicts marry?
That's the question.
And without her I can't exist..."
Mitya walked frowning across the room.
It was almost dark.
He suddenly seemed terribly worried.
"So there's a secret, she says, a secret?