Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 1‘Jealous of you?’ Grushenka laughed in spite of herself.
‘Of whom could she have been jealous?’
‘Of the servant girls.’
‘Hold your tongue, Maximushka, I am in no laughing
mood now; I feel angry. Don’t ogle the pies. I shan’t give
you any; they are not good for you, and I won’t give you any
vodka either. I have to look after him, too, just as though I
kept an almshouse,’ she laughed.
‘I don’t deserve your kindness. I am a worthless creature,’
said Maximov, with tears in his voice. ‘You would do better
to spend your kindness on people of more use than me.’
‘Ech, everyone is of use, Maximushka, and how can we
tell who’s of most use? If only that Pole didn’t exist, Alyosha.
He’s taken it into his head to fall ill, too, to-day. I’ve been to
see him also. And I shall send him some pies, too, on pur-
pose. I hadn’t sent him any, but Mitya accused me of it, so
now I shall send some! Ah, here’s Fenya with a letter! Yes,
it’s from the Poles — begging again!
Pan Mussyalovitch had indeed sent an extremely long
and characteristically eloquent letter in which he begged
her to lend him three roubles. In the letter was enclosed a
receipt for the sum, with a promise to repay it within three
months, signed by Pan Vrublevsky as well. Grushenka had
received many such letters, accompanied by such receipts,
from her former lover during the fortnight of her convales-
cence. But she knew that the two Poles had been to ask after
her health during her illness. The first letter Grushenka got
from them was a long one, written on large notepaper and
with a big family crest on the seal. It was so obscure and