Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com bread like that and threw it to Zhutchka, that shaggy dog
there’s been such a fuss about. The people of the house it
belonged to never fed it at all, though it barked all day. (Do
you like that stupid barking, Karamazov? I can’t stand it.)
So it rushed at the bread, swallowed it, and began to squeal;
it turned round and round and ran away, squealing as it ran
out of sight. That was Ilusha’s own account of it. He con-
fessed it to me, and cried bitterly. He hugged me, shaking
all over. He kept on repeating ‘He ran away squealing’: the
sight of that haunted him. He was tormented by remorse, I
could see that. I took it seriously. I determined to give him
a lesson for other things as well. So I must confess I wasn’t
quite straightforward, and pretended to be more indignant
perhaps than I was. ‘You’ve done a nasty thing,’ I said, ‘you
are a scoundrel. I won’t tell of it, of course, but I shall have
nothing more to do with you for a time. I’ll think it over
and let you know through Smurov’ — that’s the boy who’s
just come with me; he’s always ready to do anything for me
— ‘whether I will have anything to do with you in the future
or whether I give you up for good as a scoundrel.’ He was
tremendously upset. I must own I felt I’d gone too far as I
spoke, but there was no help for it. I did what I thought best
at the time. A day or two after, I sent Smurov to tell him that
I would not speak to him again. That’s what we call it when
two schoolfellows refuse to have anything more to do with
one another. Secretly I only meant to send him to Coventry
for a few days and then, if I saw signs of repentance, to hold
out my hand to him again. That was my intention. But what
do you think happened? He heard Smurov’s message, his