0 The Brothers Karamazovcame back to us from Moscow well dressed, in a clean coat
and clean linen. He brushed his clothes most scrupulously
twice a day invariably, and was very fond of cleaning his
smart calf boots with a special English polish, so that they
shone like mirrors. He turned out a first rate cook. Fyodor
Pavlovitch paid him a salary, almost the whole of which
Smerdyakov spent on clothes, pomade, perfumes, and such
things. But he seemed to have as much contempt for the
female sex as for men; he was discreet, almost unapproach-
able, with them. Fyodor Pavlovitch began to regard him
rather differently. His fits were becoming more frequent,
and on the days he was ill Marfa cooked, which did not suit
Fyodor Pavlovitch at all.
‘Why are your fits getting worse?’ asked Fyodor Pavlov-
itch, looking askance at his new cook. ‘Would you like to get
married? Shall I find you a wife?’
But Smerdyakov turned pale with anger, and made no
reply. Fyodor Pavlovitch left him with an impatient gesture.
The great thing was that he had absolute confidence in his
honesty. It happened once, when Fyodor Pavlovitch was
drunk, that he dropped in the muddy courtyard three hun-
dred-rouble notes which he had only just received. He only
missed them next day, and was just hastening to search his
pockets when he saw the notes lying on the table. Where
had they come from? Smerdyakov had picked them up and
brought them in the day before.
‘Well, my lad, I’ve never met anyone like you,’ Fyodor
Pavlovitch said shortly, and gave him ten roubles. We may
add that he not only believed in his honesty, but had, for