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set their hearts on anything, will spare no expense to satisfy
their caprice. Besides, she’s so rich,’ Mitya argued.
As for his ‘plan’ it was just the same as before; it consisted
of the offer of his rights to Tchermashnya — but not with a
commercial object, as it had been with Samsonov, not try-
ing to allure the lady with the possibility of making a profit
of six or seven thousand — but simply as a security for the
debt. As he worked out this new idea, Mitya was enchanted
with it, but so it always was with him in all his undertak-
ings, in all his sudden decisions. He gave himself up to every
new idea with passionate enthusiasm. Yet, when he mount-
ed the steps of Madame Hohlakov’s house he felt a shiver of
fear run down his spine. At that moment he saw fully, as a
mathematical certainty, that this was his last hope, that if
this broke down, nothing else was left him in the world but
to ‘rob and murder someone for the three thousand.’ It was
half-past seven when he rang at the bell.
At first fortune seemed to smile upon him. As soon as he
was announced he was received with extraordinary rapid-
ity. ‘As though she were waiting for me,’ thought Mitya, and
as soon as he had been led to the drawing-room, the lady of
the house herself ran in, and declared at once that she was
expecting him.
‘I was expecting you! I was expecting you! Though I’d no
reason to suppose you would come to see me, as you will
admit yourself. Yet, I did expect you. You may marvel at my
instinct, Dmitri Fyodorovitch, but I was convinced all the
morning that you would come.’
‘That is certainly wonderful, madam,’ observed Mitya,