"I've told you everything, and, of course, you've now understood what I want from you?"
"Perhaps I have; but say it yourself," Nastasya Filippovna replied quietly.
Wrath lit up in Aglaya's face.
"I wanted to find out from you," she said firmly and distinctly, "by what right do you interfere in his feelings towards me?
By what right do you dare write letters to me?
By what right do you declare every minute to me and to him that you love him, after you yourself abandoned him and ran away from him in such an offensive and . . . disgraceful way?"
"I have never declared either to him or to you that I love him," Nastasya Filippovna spoke with effort, "and . . . you're right, I ran away from him . . ." she added barely audibly.
"What do you mean you 'never declared either to him or to me'?" cried Aglaya. "And what about your letters?
Who asked you to matchmake us and persuade me to marry him?
Isn't that a declaration?
Why do you force yourself on us?
At first I thought you wanted, on the contrary, to make me loathe him by meddling with us, so that I would abandon him, and only later did I guess what it was: you simply imagined that you were doing a lofty deed with all this posturing . . . Well, how could you love him, if you love your vanity so much?
Why didn't you simply go away, instead of writing ridiculous letters to me?
Why don't you now marry the noble man who loves you so much and has honored you by offering his hand?
It's all too clear why: if you marry Rogozhin, what sort of offense will you have left then?
You'll even get too much honor!
Evgeny Pavlych said of you that you've read too many poems and are 'too well educated for your . . . position'; that you're a bookish woman and a lily-white; add your vanity, and there are all your reasons . . ."
"And you're not a lily-white?"
The matter had arrived too hastily, too nakedly at such an unexpected point, unexpected because Nastasya Filippovna, on her way to Pavlovsk, had still been dreaming of something, though, of course, she anticipated it would sooner be bad than good; as for Aglaya, she was decidedly carried along by the impulse of the moment, as if falling down a hill, and could not resist the terrible pleasure of revenge.
For Nastasya Filippovna it was even strange to see Aglaya like this; she looked at her and could not believe her eyes, and was decidedly at a loss for the first moment.
Whether she was a woman who had read too many poems, as Evgeny Pavlovich suggested, or was simply a madwoman, as the prince was convinced, in any case this woman—who on occasion had so cynical and brazen a manner—was in reality far more shy, tender, and trustful than one might have thought.
True, there was much in her that was bookish, dreamy, self-enclosed, and fantastical, but much, too, that was strong and deep . . . The prince understood that; suffering showed in his face.
Aglaya noticed it and trembled with hatred.
"How dare you address me like that?" she said with inexpressible haughtiness, in reply to Nastasya Filippovna's remark.
"You probably misheard me," Nastasya Filippovna was surprised.
"How did I address you?"
"If you wanted to be an honest woman, why didn't you drop your seducer Totsky then, simply . . . without theatrics?" Aglaya said suddenly out of the blue.
"What do you know about my position, that you dare to judge me?" Nastasya Filippovna gave a start and turned terribly pale.
"I know that you didn't go to work, but went off with the rich Rogozhin, in order to present yourself as a fallen angel.
I'm not surprised that Totsky wanted to shoot himself because of a fallen angel!"
"Stop it!" Nastasya Filippovna said with repugnance and as if through pain. "You understand me as well as . . . Darya Alexeevna's chambermaid, who went to the justice of the peace the other day to make a complaint against her fiance.
She'd have understood better than you . . ."
"She's probably an honest girl and lives by her own labor.
Why do you have such contempt for a chambermaid?"
"I don't have contempt for labor, but for you when you speak about labor."
"If you wanted to be an honest woman, you should have gone to work as a washerwoman."
The two women stood up, pale-faced, and looked at each other.
"Aglaya, stop!
This is unfair," the prince cried out like a lost man.
Rogozhin was no longer smiling, but listened with compressed lips and crossed arms.
"Here, look at her," Nastasya Filippovna said, trembling with spite, "at this young lady!
And I took her for an angel!
Have you come to see me without your governess, Aglaya Ivanovna? .. .
And do you want ... do you want me to tell you straight out, here and now, without embellishments, why you came?
You were scared, that's why."
"Scared of you?" asked Aglaya, beside herself with naive and impudent amazement that the woman would dare to address her that way.
"Yes, of me!
You're afraid of me, since you decided to come and see me.
If you're afraid of someone, you don't despise him.
And to think that I respected you, even up to this very minute!