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Then followed a series of questions such as Smerdyakov
had just complained of to Ivan, all relating to his expected
visitor, and these questions we will omit. Half an hour later
the house was locked, and the crazy old man was wandering
along through the rooms in excited expectation of hearing
every minute the five knocks agreed upon. Now and then
he peered out into the darkness, seeing nothing.
It was very late, but Ivan was still awake and reflecting.
He sat up late that night, till two o’clock. But we will not
give an account of his thoughts, and this is not the place to
look into that soul — its turn will come. And even if one
tried, it would be very hard to give an account of them, for
there were no thoughts in his brain, but something very
vague, and, above all, intense excitement. He felt himself
that he had lost his bearings. He was fretted, too, by all sorts
of strange and almost surprising desires; for instance, after
midnight he suddenly had an intense irresistible inclina-
tion to go down, open the door, go to the lodge and beat
Smerdyakov. But if he had been asked why, he could not
have given any exact reason, except perhaps that he loathed
the valet as one who had insulted him more gravely than
anyone in the world. On the other hand, he was more than
once that night overcome by a sort of inexplicable humili-
ating terror, which he felt positively paralysed his physical
powers. His head ached and he was giddy. A feeling of ha-
tred was rankling in his heart, as though he meant to avenge
himself on someone. He even hated Alyosha, recalling the
conversation he had just had with him. At moments he hat-
ed himself intensely. Of Katerina Ivanovna he almost forgot