1 The Brothers Karamazov
ly, and so laid aside Mitya’s cap, and decided that all his
clothes must be more thoroughly examined later.
‘Excuse me,’ cried Nikolay Parfenovitch, suddenly, notic-
ing that the right cuff of Mitya’s shirt was turned in, and
covered with blood, ‘excuse me, what’s that, blood?’
‘Yes,’ Mitya jerked out.
‘That is, what blood?... and why is the cuff turned in?’
Mitya told him how he had got the sleeve stained with
blood looking after Grigory, and had turned it inside when
he was washing his hands at Perhotin’s.
‘You must take off your shirt, too. That’s very important
as material evidence.’
Mitya flushed red and flew into a rage.
‘What, am I to stay naked?’ he shouted.
‘Don’t disturb yourself. We will arrange something. And
meanwhile take off your socks.’
‘You’re not joking? Is that really necessary?’
Mitya’s eyes flashed.
‘We are in no mood for joking,’ answered Nikolay Parfe-
novitch sternly.
‘Well, if I must-’ muttered Mitya, and sitting down on the
bed, he took off his socks. He felt unbearably awkward. All
were clothed, while he was naked, and strange to say, when
he was undressed he felt somehow guilty in their presence,
and was almost ready to believe himself that he was inferior
to them, and that now they had a perfect right to despise
him.
‘When all are undressed, one is somehow not ashamed,
but when one’s the only one undressed and everybody is