10 The Brothers Karamazov
hands.
‘Listen. Did you kill him alone? With my brother’s help
or without?’
‘It was only with you, with your help, I killed him, and
Dmitri Fyodorovitch is quite innocent.’
‘All right, all right. Talk about me later. Why do I keep on
trembling? I can’t speak properly.’
‘You were bold enough then. You said ‘everything was
lawful,’ and how frightened you are now,’ Smerdyakov mut-
tered in surprise. ‘Won’t you have some lemonade? I’ll ask
for some at once. It’s very refreshing. Only I must hide this
first.’
And again he motioned at the notes. He was just going to
get up and call at the door to Marya Kondratyevna to make
some lemonade and bring it them, but, looking for some-
thing to cover up the notes that she might not see them, he
first took out his handkerchief, and as it turned out to be
very dirty, took up the big yellow book that Ivan had no-
ticed at first lying on the table, and put it over the notes. The
book was The Sayings of the Holy Father Isaac the Syrian.
Ivan read it mechanically.
‘I won’t have any lemonade,’ he said. ‘Talk of me later. Sit
down and tell me how you did it. Tell me all about it.’
‘You’d better take off your greatcoat, or you’ll be too
hot.’ Ivan, as though he’d only just thought of it, took off
his coat, and, without getting up from his chair, threw it on
the bench.
‘Speak, please, speak.’
He seemed calmer. He waited, feeling sure that Smerdya-