The Brothers Karamazov‘And as for Mitya’s being mad, he certainly seems like
it now,’ Grushenka began with a peculiarly anxious and
mysterious air. ‘Do you know, Alyosha, I’ve been wanting
to talk to you about it for a long time. I go to him every day
and simply wonder at him. Tell me, now, what do you sup-
pose he’s always talking about? He talks and talks and I can
make nothing of it. I fancied he was talking of something
intellectual that I couldn’t understand in my foolishness.
Only he suddenly began talking to me about a babe — that
is, about some child. ‘Why is the babe poor?’ he said. ‘It’s
for that babe I am going to Siberia now. I am not a mur-
derer, but I must go to Siberia!’ What that meant, what babe,
I couldn’t tell for the life of me. Only I cried when he said
it, because he said it so nicely. He cried himself, and I cried,
too. He suddenly kissed me and made the sign of the cross
over me. What did it mean, Alyosha, tell me? What is this
babe?’
‘It must be Rakitin, who’s been going to see him late-
ly,’ smiled Alyosha, ‘though... that’s not Rakitin’s doing. I
didn’t see Mitya yesterday. I’ll see him to-day.’
‘No, it’s not Rakitin; it’s his brother Ivan Fyodorovitch
upsetting him. It’s his going to see him, that’s what it is,’
Grushenka began, and suddenly broke off. Alyosha gazed
at her in amazement.
‘Ivan’s going? Has he been to see him? Mitya told me
himself that Ivan hasn’t been once.’
‘There... there! What a girl I am! Blurting things out!’ ex-
claimed Grushenka, confused and suddenly blushing. ‘Stay,
Alyosha, hush! Since I’ve said so much I’ll tell the whole