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denly heard he’d been here again, not to see me but to see
Lise. That’s six days ago now. He came, stayed five minutes,
and went away. And I didn’t hear of it till three days after-
wards, from Glafira, so it was a great shock to me. I sent for
Lise directly. She laughed. ‘He thought you were asleep,’ she
said, ‘and came in to me to ask after your health.’ Of course,
that’s how it happened. But Lise, Lise, mercy on us, how she
distresses me! Would you believe it, one night, four days
ago, just after you saw her last time, and had gone away, she
suddenly had a fit, screaming, shrieking, hysterics! Why is
it I never have hysterics? Then, next day another fit, and the
same thing on the third, and yesterday too, and then yester-
day that aberration. She suddenly screamed out, ‘I hate Ivan
Fyodorovitch. I insist on your never letting him come to the
house again.’ I was struck dumb at these amazing words,
and answered, ‘On what grounds could I refuse to see such
an excellent young man, a young man of such learning too,
and so unfortunate?’ — for all this business is a misfortune,
isn’t it?’ She suddenly burst out laughing at my words, and
so rudely, you know. Well, I was pleased; I thought I had
amused her and the fits would pass off, especially as I want-
ed to refuse to see Ivan Fyodorovitch anyway on account of
his strange visits without my knowledge, and meant to ask
him for an explanation. But early this morning Lise waked
up and flew into a passion with Yulia and, would you believe
it, slapped her in the face. That’s monstrous; I am always
polite to my servants. And an hour later she was hugging
Yulia’s feet and kissing them. She sent a message to me that
she wasn’t coming to me at all, and would never come and