Gentlemen, the prince is in love; as soon as he came in today, I was convinced of it.
Don't blush, Prince, or I'll feel sorry for you.
What beauty will save the world?
Kolya told me what you said . . . Are you a zealous Christian?
Kolya says you call yourself a Christian."
The prince studied him attentively and did not answer.
"You don't answer me?
Maybe you think I love you very much?" Ippolit suddenly added, as if breaking off.
"No, I don't think so.
I know you don't love me."
"What?
Even after yesterday?
Wasn't I sincere with you yesterday?"
"Yesterday, too, I knew you didn't love me."
"Because I envy you, envy you, is that it?
You've always thought so and you think so now, but . . . but why am I telling you that?
I want more champagne; pour me some, Keller."
"You shouldn't drink more, Ippolit, I won't let you . . ." And the prince moved the glass away from him.
"In fact. . ." he agreed at once, as if pondering, "they might say . . . ah, what the devil do I care what they say!
Isn't it true, isn't it true?
Let them talk afterwards, right, Prince?
As if it's any of our business what happens afterwards! . . .
Anyhow, I'm still not quite awake.
I had a terrible dream. I've just remembered it ... I don't wish you such dreams, Prince, though maybe I actually don't love you.
Anyhow, if you don't love someone, why wish him ill, isn't it true?
See how I keep asking, asking all the time!
Give me your hand; I'll press it firmly, like this . . . You do still give me your hand, though?
Does that mean you know I'm sincere? . . .
Maybe I won't drink anymore.
What time is it?
Never mind, though, I know what time it is.
The hour has come!
It's just the right time.
What, they've put out the food in the corner?
So this table is free? Excellent!
Gentlemen, I . . . however, these gentlemen are not all listening . ., I intend to read an article, Prince; food is, of course, more interesting, but . . ."
And suddenly, quite unexpectedly, he pulled from his upper side pocket a big, official-sized envelope, sealed with a big red seal.
He placed it on the table in front of him.
This unexpectedness had an effect on the company, which was unprepared for it, or, better, was prepared, but not for that.
Evgeny Pavlovich even jumped in his chair; Ganya quickly moved to the table; Rogozhin did the same, but with a sort of gruff vexation, as if he knew what it was about.
Lebedev, who happened to be near by, came closer with his curious little eyes and gazed at the envelope, trying to guess what it was about.
"What have you got there?" the prince asked uneasily.
"With the first little rim of the sun, I'll lie down, Prince, I told you that; on my word of honor: you'll see!" cried Ippolit. "But . . . but . . . can you possibly think I'm not capable of opening this envelope?" he added, passing his gaze over them all with a sort of defiance, and as if addressing them all indiscriminately.
The prince noticed that he was trembling all over.
"None of us thinks that," the prince answered for everyone, "and why do you think that anyone has such an idea, and what. . . what has given you this strange idea of reading?
What is it you've got there, Ippolit?"
"What is it?
Has something happened to him again?" they asked all around.
Everyone came closer, some still eating; the envelope with the red seal attracted them all like a magnet.
"I wrote it myself yesterday, right after I gave you my word that I'd come and live with you, Prince.