Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 1tellectual, so observant, choose a little idiot, an invalid like
me? Ah, Alyosha, I am awfully happy, for I don’t deserve
you a bit.’
‘You do, Lise. I shall be leaving the monastery altogether
in a few days. If I go into the world, I must marry. I know
that. He told me to marry, too. Whom could I marry bet-
ter than you — and who would have me except you? I have
been thinking it over. In the first place, you’ve known me
from a child and you’ve a great many qualities I haven’t. You
are more light-hearted than I am; above all, you are more
innocent than I am. I have been brought into contact with
many, many things already.... Ah, you don’t know, but I, too,
am a Karamazov. What does it matter if you do laugh and
make jokes, and at me, too? Go on laughing. I am so glad
you do. You laugh like a little child, but you think like a
martyr.’
‘Like a martyr? How?’
‘Yes, Lise, your question just now: whether we weren’t
showing contempt for that poor man by dissecting his soul
— that was the question of a sufferer.... You see, I don’t know
how to express it, but anyone who thinks of such questions
is capable of suffering. Sitting in your invalid chair you
must have thought over many things already.’
‘Alyosha, give me your hand. Why are you taking it
away?’ murmured Lise in a failing voice, weak with happi-
ness. ‘Listen, Alyosha. What will you wear when you come
out of the monastery? What sort of suit? Don’t laugh, don’t
be angry, it’s very, very important to me.’
‘I haven’t thought about the suit, Lise; But I’ll wear what-