"Well, all right, my dear, all right!
I shall add that to your account."
For a moment she mastered her excitement and rested.
"And what is this 'poor knight'?"
"I have no idea; I wasn't there; it must be some kind of joke."
"Nice to find out all of a sudden!
Only is it possible that she could become interested in you?
She herself called you a 'little freak' and an 'idiot.'"
"You might have not told me that," the prince observed reproachfully, almost in a whisper.
"Don't be angry.
She's a despotic, crazy, spoiled girl—if she falls in love, she'll certainly abuse the man out loud and scoff in his face; I was just the same.
Only please don't be triumphant, dear boy, she's not yours; I won't believe it, and it will never be!
I tell you so that you can take measures now.
Listen, swear to me you're not married to that one."
"Lizaveta Prokofyevna, how can you, for pity's sake?" the prince almost jumped up in amazement.
"But you almost married her?"
"I almost did," the prince whispered and hung his head.
"So you're in love with her, is that it?
You've come for her now?
For that one?"
"I haven't come to get married," replied the prince.
"Is there anything you hold sacred in this world?"
"There is."
"Swear to me that you haven't come to marry that one."
"I swear by whatever you like!"
"I believe you. Kiss me.
At last I can breathe freely; but know this: Aglaya doesn't love you, take measures, and she won't be your wife as long as I live!
Do you hear?"
"I hear."
The prince was blushing so much that he could not even look directly at Lizaveta Prokofyevna.
"Tie a string round your finger, then.
I've been waiting for you as for Providence (you weren't worth it!), I drenched my pillow with tears at night—not over you, dear boy, don't worry, I have another grief of my own, eternal and ever the same.
But here is why I waited for you so impatiently: I still believe that God himself sent you to me as a friend and a true brother.
I have no one around me, except old Princess Belokonsky, and she, too, has flown away, and besides she's grown stupid as a sheep in her old age.
Now answer me simply yes or no: do you know why she shouted from her carriage two days ago?"
"On my word of honor, I had no part in it and know nothing!"
"Enough, I believe you.
Now I also have different thoughts about it, but still yesterday, in the morning, I blamed Evgeny Pavlych for everything.
Yesterday morning and the whole day before.
Now, of course, I can't help agreeing with them: it's obvious that he was being laughed at like a fool for some reason, with some purpose, to some end (that in itself is suspicious! and also unseemly!)—but Aglaya won't be his wife, I can tell you that!
Maybe he's a good man, but that's how it will be.
I hesitated before, but now I've decided for certain:
'First put me in a coffin and bury me in the earth, then marry off my daughter,' that's what I spelled out to Ivan Fyodorovich today.
You see that I trust you, don't you?"
"I see and I understand."
Lizaveta Prokofyevna gazed piercingly at the prince; it may be that she wanted very much to know what impression the news about Evgeny Pavlych had made on him.
"Do you know anything about Gavrila Ivolgin?"
"That is ... I know a lot."
"Do you or do you not know that he is in touch with Aglaya?"
"I had no idea," the prince was surprised and even gave a start. "So you say Gavrila Ardalionovich is in touch with Aglaya Ivanovna?