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‘What reproach?’
‘Why, that foreseeing such a calamity you deserted your
own father, and would not protect us, for I might have been
taken up any time for stealing that three thousand.’
‘Damn you!’ Ivan swore again. ‘Stay, did you tell the pros-
ecutor and the investigating lawyer about those knocks?’
‘I told them everything just as it was.’
Ivan wondered inwardly again.
‘If I thought of anything then,’ he began again, ‘it was
solely of some wickedness on your part. Dmitri might kill
him, but that he would steal — I did not believe that then....
But I was prepared for any wickedness from you. You told
me yourself you could sham a fit. What did you say that
for?’
‘It was just through my simplicity, and I never have
shammed a fit on purpose in my life. And I only said so
then to boast to you. It was just foolishness. I liked you so
much then, and was open-hearted with you.’
‘My brother directly accuses you of the murder and
theft.’
‘What else is left for him to do?’ said Smerdyakov, with
a bitter grin. ‘And who will believe him with all the proofs
against him? Grigory Vassilyevitch saw the door open.
What can he say after that? But never mind him! He is trem-
bling to save himself.’
He slowly ceased speaking; then suddenly, as though on
reflection, added:
‘And look here again. He wants to throw it on me and
make out that it is the work of my hands — I’ve heard that