The Brothers Karamazov‘It’s all very well when you are firing at someone, but
when he is firing straight in your mug, you must feel pretty
silly. You’d be glad to run away, Marya Kondratyevna.’
‘You don’t mean you would run away?’ But Smerdyakov
did not deign to reply. After a moment’s silence the guitar
tinkled again, and he sang again in the same falsetto:
Whatever you may say,
I shall go far away.
Life will be bright and gay
In the city far away.
I shall not grieve,
I shall not grieve at all,
I don’t intend to grieve at all.
Then something unexpected happened. Alyosha sud-
denly sneezed. They were silent. Alyosha got up and walked
towards them. He found Smerdyakov dressed up and wear-
ing polished boots, his hair pomaded, and perhaps curled.
The guitar lay on the garden-seat. His companion was the
daughter of the house, wearing a light-blue dress with a
train two yards long. She was young and would not have
been bad-looking, but that her face was so round and ter-
ribly freckled.
‘Will my brother Dmitri soon be back? asked Alyosha
with as much composure as he could.
Smerdyakov got up slowly; Marya Kondratyevna rose
too.
‘How am I to know about Dmitri Fyodorovitch? It’s not
as if I were his keeper,’ answered Smerdyakov quietly, dis-
tinctly, and superciliously.