0 The Brothers Karamazov
to the question where I got the money would expose me to
far greater disgrace than the murder and robbing of my fa-
ther, if I had murdered and robbed him. That’s why I can’t
tell you. I can’t for fear of disgrace. What, gentlemen, are
you going to write that down?’
‘Yes, we’ll write it down,’ lisped Nikolay Parfenovitch.
‘You ought not to write that down about ‘disgrace.’ I only
told you that in the goodness of my heart. I needn’t have
told you. I made you a present of it, so to speak, and you
pounce upon it at once. Oh, well, write — write what you
like,’ he concluded, with scornful disgust. ‘I’m not afraid of
you and I can still hold up my head before you.’
‘And can’t you tell us the nature of that disgrace?’ Nikolay
Parfenovitch hazarded.
The prosecutor frowned darkly.
‘No, no, c’est fini, don’t trouble yourselves. It’s not worth
while soiling one’s hands. I have soiled myself enough
through you as it is. You’re not worth it — no one is. Enough,
gentlemen. I’m not going on.’
This was said too peremptorily. Nikolay Parfenovitch did
not insist further, but from Ippolit Kirillovitch’s eyes he saw
that he had not given up hope.
‘Can you not, at least, tell us what sum you had in your
hands when you went into Mr. Perhotin’s — how many rou-
bles exactly?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘You spoke to Mr. Perhotin, I believe, of having received
three thousand from Madame Hohlakov.’
‘Perhaps I did. Enough, gentlemen. I won’t say how much