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will pray for my sin for ever. That’s how the Jesuits talk, isn’t
it? Just as we are doing?’
‘Yes.’ Alyosha smiled gently.
‘I love you for always telling the whole truth and never
hiding anything,’ cried Mitya, with a joyful laugh. ‘So I’ve
caught my Alyosha being Jesuitical. I must kiss you for that.
Now listen to the rest; I’ll open the other side of my heart
to you. This is what I planned and decided. If I run away,
even with money and a passport, and even to America, I
should be cheered up by the thought that I am not running
away for pleasure, not for happiness, but to another exile
as bad, perhaps, as Siberia. It is as bad, Alyosha, it is! I hate
that America, damn it, already. Even though Grusha will be
with me. Just look at her; is she an American? She is Russian,
Russian to the marrow of her bones; she will be homesick
for the mother country, and I shall see every hour that she
is suffering for my sake, that she has taken up that cross
for me. And what harm has she done? And how shall I, too,
put up with the rabble out there, though they may be bet-
ter than I, every one of them? I hate that America already!
And though they may be wonderful at machinery, every one
of them, damn them, they are not of my soul. I love Russia,
Alyosha, I love the Russian God, though I am a scoundrel
myself. I shall choke there!’ he exclaimed, his eyes sudden-
ly flashing. His voice was trembling with tears. ‘So this is
what I’ve decided, Alyosha, listen,’ he began again, master-
ing his emotion. ‘As soon as I arrive there with Grusha, we
will set to work at once on the land, in solitude, somewhere
very remote, with wild bears. There must be some remote