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"
Then
you
came
for
her
sake
?
"
Aglaya
's
voice
trembled
.
"
Yes
,
I
came
for
her
sake
.
"
There
was
a
moment
or
two
of
gloomy
silence
.
Aglaya
rose
from
her
seat
.
"
If
you
say
,
"
she
began
in
shaky
tones
,
"
if
you
say
that
this
woman
of
yours
is
mad
--
at
all
events
I
have
nothing
to
do
with
her
insane
fancies
.
Kindly
take
these
three
letters
,
Lef
Nicolaievitch
,
and
throw
them
back
to
her
,
from
me
.
And
if
she
dares
,
"
cried
Aglaya
suddenly
,
much
louder
than
before
,
"
if
she
dares
so
much
as
write
me
one
word
again
,
tell
her
I
shall
tell
my
father
,
and
that
she
shall
be
taken
to
a
lunatic
asylum
.
"
The
prince
jumped
up
in
alarm
at
Aglaya
's
sudden
wrath
,
and
a
mist
seemed
to
come
before
his
eyes
.
"
You
can
not
really
feel
like
that
!
You
do
n't
mean
what
you
say
.
It
is
not
true
,
"
he
murmured
.
"
It
is
true
,
it
is
true
,
"
cried
Aglaya
,
almost
beside
herself
with
rage
.
"
What
's
true
?
What
's
all
this
?
What
's
true
?
"
said
an
alarmed
voice
just
beside
them
.
Before
them
stood
Lizabetha
Prokofievna
.
"
Why
,
it
's
true
that
I
am
going
to
marry
Gavrila
Ardalionovitch
,
that
I
love
him
and
intend
to
elope
with
him
tomorrow
,
"
cried
Aglaya
,
turning
upon
her
mother
.
"
Do
you
hear
?
Is
your
curiosity
satisfied
?
Are
you
pleased
with
what
you
have
heard
?
"
