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- Федор Достоевский
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It
appeared
that
he
and
the
general
were
going
in
the
same
direction
.
In
spite
of
the
lateness
of
the
hour
,
the
general
was
hurrying
away
to
talk
to
someone
upon
some
important
subject
.
Meanwhile
he
talked
incessantly
but
disconnectedly
to
the
prince
,
and
continually
brought
in
the
name
of
Lizabetha
Prokofievna
.
If
the
prince
had
been
in
a
condition
to
pay
more
attention
to
what
the
general
was
saying
,
he
would
have
discovered
that
the
latter
was
desirous
of
drawing
some
information
out
of
him
,
or
indeed
of
asking
him
some
question
outright
;
but
that
he
could
not
make
up
his
mind
to
come
to
the
point
.
Muishkin
was
so
absent
,
that
from
the
very
first
he
could
not
attend
to
a
word
the
other
was
saying
;
and
when
the
general
suddenly
stopped
before
him
with
some
excited
question
,
he
was
obliged
to
confess
,
ignominiously
,
that
he
did
not
know
in
the
least
what
he
had
been
talking
about
.
The
general
shrugged
his
shoulders
.
"
How
strange
everyone
,
yourself
included
,
has
become
of
late
,
"
said
he
.
"
I
was
telling
you
that
I
can
not
in
the
least
understand
Lizabetha
Prokofievna
's
ideas
and
agitations
.
She
is
in
hysterics
up
there
,
and
moans
and
says
that
we
have
been
'
shamed
and
disgraced
.
'
How
?
Why
?
When
?
By
whom
?
I
confess
that
I
am
very
much
to
blame
myself
;
I
do
not
conceal
the
fact
;
but
the
conduct
,
the
outrageous
behaviour
of
this
woman
,
must
really
be
kept
within
limits
,
by
the
police
if
necessary
,
and
I
am
just
on
my
way
now
to
talk
the
question
over
and
make
some
arrangements
.
It
can
all
be
managed
quietly
and
gently
,
even
kindly
,
and
without
the
slightest
fuss
or
scandal
.
I
foresee
that
the
future
is
pregnant
with
events
,
and
that
there
is
much
that
needs
explanation
.
There
is
intrigue
in
the
wind
;
but
if
on
one
side
nothing
is
known
,
on
the
other
side
nothing
will
be
explained
.
If
I
have
heard
nothing
about
it
,
nor
have
you
,
nor
he
,
nor
she
--
who
has
heard
about
it
,
I
should
like
to
know
?
How
can
all
this
be
explained
except
by
the
fact
that
half
of
it
is
mirage
or
moonshine
,
or
some
hallucination
of
that
sort
?
"
"
She
is
insane
,
"
muttered
the
prince
,
suddenly
recollecting
all
that
had
passed
,
with
a
spasm
of
pain
at
his
heart
.
"
I
too
had
that
idea
,
and
I
slept
in
peace
.
But
now
I
see
that
their
opinion
is
more
correct
.
I
do
not
believe
in
the
theory
of
madness
!
The
woman
has
no
common
sense
;
but
she
is
not
only
not
insane
,
she
is
artful
to
a
degree
.
Her
outburst
of
this
evening
about
Evgenie
's
uncle
proves
that
conclusively
.
It
was
villainous
,
simply
jesuitical
,
and
it
was
all
for
some
special
purpose
.
"
"
What
about
Evgenie
's
uncle
?
"
