The Brothers Karamazov
though not trusting his own words he turned over two or
three of the topmost ones.
‘No, they’re all alike,’ he added, and again he looked in-
quiringly at Pyotr Ilyitch.
‘How have you grown so rich?’ the latter asked. ‘Wait, I’ll
send my boy to Plotnikov’s, they close late — to see if they
won’t change it. Here, Misha!’ he called into the passage.
‘To Plotnikov’s shop — first-rate!’ cried Mitya, as though
struck by an idea. ‘Misha,’ he turned to the boy as he came
in, ‘look here, run to Plotnikov’s and tell them that Dmitri
Fyodorovitch sends his greetings, and will be there direct-
ly.... But listen, listen, tell them to have champagne, three
dozen bottles, ready before I come, and packed as it was to
take to Mokroe. I took four dozen with me then,’ he added
(suddenly addressing Pyotr Ilyitch); ‘they know all about it,
don’t you trouble, Misha,’ he turned again to the boy. ‘Stay,
listen; tell them to put in cheese, Strasburg pies, smoked fish,
ham, caviare, and everything, everything they’ve got, up to
a hundred roubles, or a hundred and twenty as before.... But
wait: don’t let them forget dessert, sweets, pears, watermel-
ons, two or three or four — no, one melon’s enough, and
chocolate, candy, toffee, fondants; in fact, everything I took
to Mokroe before, three hundred roubles’ worth with the
champagne... let it be just the same again. And remember,
Misha, if you are called Misha — His name is Misha, isn’t
it?’ He turned to Pyotr Ilyitch again.
‘Wait a minute,’ Pyotr Ilyitch intervened listening and
watching him uneasily, ‘you’d better go yourself and tell
them. He’ll muddle it.’