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"
All
this
is
mere
jealousy
--
it
is
some
malady
of
yours
,
Parfen
!
You
exaggerate
everything
,
"
said
the
prince
,
excessively
agitated
.
"
What
are
you
doing
?
"
"
Let
go
of
it
!
"
said
Parfen
,
seizing
from
the
prince
's
hand
a
knife
which
the
latter
had
at
that
moment
taken
up
from
the
table
,
where
it
lay
beside
the
history
.
Parfen
replaced
it
where
it
had
been
.
"
I
seemed
to
know
it
--
I
felt
it
,
when
I
was
coming
back
to
Petersburg
,
"
continued
the
prince
,
"
I
did
not
want
to
come
,
I
wished
to
forget
all
this
,
to
uproot
it
from
my
memory
altogether
!
Well
,
good-bye
--
what
is
the
matter
?
"
He
had
absently
taken
up
the
knife
a
second
time
,
and
again
Rogojin
snatched
it
from
his
hand
,
and
threw
it
down
on
the
table
.
It
was
a
plain
looking
knife
,
with
a
bone
handle
,
a
blade
about
eight
inches
long
,
and
broad
in
proportion
,
it
did
not
clasp
.
Seeing
that
the
prince
was
considerably
struck
by
the
fact
that
he
had
twice
seized
this
knife
out
of
his
hand
,
Rogojin
caught
it
up
with
some
irritation
,
put
it
inside
the
book
,
and
threw
the
latter
across
to
another
table
.
"
Do
you
cut
your
pages
with
it
,
or
what
?
"
asked
Muishkin
,
still
rather
absently
,
as
though
unable
to
throw
off
a
deep
preoccupation
into
which
the
conversation
had
thrown
him
.
"
Yes
.
"
"
It
's
a
garden
knife
,
is
n't
it
?
"
"
Yes
.
Ca
n't
one
cut
pages
with
a
garden
knife
?
"
"
It
's
quite
new
.
"
