The Brothers Karamazovsay, ‘is of the brood of hell.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘that’s a matter
of taste; but you are a little spitfire.’ ‘And you want keep-
ing in your place;’ says she. ‘You black sword,’ said I, ‘who
asked you to teach me?’ ‘But my breath,’ says she, ‘is clean,
and yours is unclean.’ ‘You ask all the officers whether my
breath is unclean.’ And ever since then I had it in my mind.
Not long ago I was sitting here as I am now, when I saw
that very general come in who came here for Easter, and I
asked him: ‘Your Excellency,’ said I, ‘can a lady’s breath be
unpleasant?’ ‘Yes,’ he answered; ‘you ought to open a win-
dow-pane or open the door, for the air is not fresh here.’
And they all go on like that! And what is my breath to them?
The dead smell worse still!. ‘I won’t spoil the air,’ said I, ‘I’ll
order some slippers and go away.’ My darlings, don’t blame
your own mother! Nikolay Ilyitch, how is it I can’t please
you? There’s only Ilusha who comes home from school and
loves me. Yesterday he brought me an apple. Forgive your
own mother — forgive a poor lonely creature! Why has my
breath become unpleasant to you?’
And the poor mad woman broke into sobs, and tears
streamed down her cheeks. The captain rushed up to her.
‘Mamma, mamma, my dear, give over! You are not lonely.
Everyone loves you, everyone adores you.’ He began kissing
both her hands again and tenderly stroking her face; taking
the dinner-napkin, he began wiping away her tears. Alyo-
sha fancied that he too had tears in his eyes. ‘There, you see,
you hear?’ he turned with a sort of fury to Alyosha, pointing
to the poor imbecile.
‘I see and hear,’ muttered Alyosha.