"Well, that's enough, anyway," Ivan cut short the conversation. "I am going.
I'll come to-morrow." And turning at once, he walked out of the room and went straight downstairs.
With an imperious gesture, Katerina Ivanovna seized Alyosha by both hands.
"Follow him!
Overtake him!
Don't leave him alone for a minute!" she said, in a hurried whisper. "He's mad!
Don't you know that he's mad?
He is in a fever, nervous fever.
The doctor told me so. Go, run after him...."
Alyosha jumped up and ran after Ivan, who was not fifty paces ahead of him.
"What do you want?" He turned quickly on Alyosha, seeing that he was running after him. "She told you to catch me up, because I'm mad.
I know it all by heart," he added irritably.
"She is mistaken, of course; but she is right that you are ill," said Alyosha. "I was looking at your face just now. You look very ill, Ivan."
Ivan walked on without stopping.
Alyosha followed him.
"And do you know, Alexey Fyodorovitch, how people do go out of their minds?" Ivan asked in a a voice suddenly quiet, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity.
"No, I don't. I suppose there are all kinds of insanity."
"And can one observe that one's going mad oneself?"
"I imagine one can't see oneself clearly in such circumstances," Alyosha answered with surprise.
Ivan paused for half a minute.
"If you want to talk to me, please change the subject," he said suddenly.
"Oh, while I think of it, I have a letter for you," said Alyosha timidly, and he took Lise's note from his pocket and held it out to Ivan.
They were just under a lamp-post.
Ivan recognised the handwriting at once.
"Ah, from that little demon!" he laughed maliciously, and, without opening the envelope, he tore it into bits and threw it in the air.
The bits were scattered by the wind.
"She's not sixteen yet, I believe, and already offering herself," he said contemptuously, striding along the street again.
"How do you mean, offering herself?" exclaimed Alyosha.
"As wanton women offer themselves, to be sure."
"How can you, Ivan, how can you?" Alyosha cried warmly, in a grieved voice. "She is a child; you are insulting a child!
She is ill; she is very ill, too. She is on the verge of insanity, too, perhaps.... I had hoped to hear something from you... that would save her."
"You'll hear nothing from me.
If she is a child, I am not her nurse.
Be quiet, Alexey.
Don't go on about her.
I am not even thinking about it."
They were silent again for a moment.
"She will be praying all night now to the Mother of God to show her how to act to-morrow at the trial," he said sharply and angrily again.
"You... you mean Katerina Ivanovna?"
"Yes.
Whether she's to save Mitya or ruin him.
She'll pray for light from above.
She can't make up her mind for herself, you see. She has not had time to decide yet.
She takes me for her nurse, too. She wants me to sing lullabies to her."
"Katerina Ivanovna loves you, brother," said Alyosha sadly.
"Perhaps; but I am not very keen on her."
"She is suffering.
Why do you... sometimes say things to her that give her hope?" Alyosha went on, with timid reproach. "I know that you've given her hope. Forgive me for speaking to you like this," he added.
"I can't behave to her as I ought- break off altogether and tell her so straight out," said Ivan, irritably. "I must wait till sentence is passed on the murderer.
If I break off with her now, she will avenge herself on me by ruining that scoundrel to-morrow at the trial, for she hates him and knows she hates him.