“Oh, Lord, such things keep coming true today, really,” she began prattling again. “And why I’m so glad of you, Alyosha, I don’t know myself. If you asked, I couldn’t say.”
‘“You really don’t know why you’re glad?” Rakitin grinned. “There must have been some reason why you kept pestering me to bring him, bring him, all the time.”
“I had a different reason before, but that’s gone now, it’s not the right moment. I’ll feed you now, that’s what. I’ve become kind now, Rakitka. Do sit down, Rakitka, why are you standing? Ah, you are sitting down? Never fear, Rakitushka will always look out for himself. Now he’s sitting across from us, Alyosha, and feeling offended because I didn’t ask him to sit down before you. My Rakitka is touchy, oh, so touchy!” Grushenka laughed. “Don’t be angry, Rakitka, I’m feeling kind today. But why are you sitting there so sadly, Alyoshechka, or are you afraid of me?” she looked into his eyes with mocking gaiety.
“He has a grief. He didn’t get promoted,” Rakitin said in a deep voice.
“What do you mean, promoted?”
“His elder got smelly.”
“What do you mean, ‘smelly’? You’re spewing a lot of nonsense, you just want to say something nasty. Shut up, fool. Will you let me sit on your lap, Alyosha—like this!” And all at once she sprang up suddenly and, laughing, leaped onto his knees like an affectionate cat, tenderly embracing his neck with her right arm. “I’ll cheer you up, my pious boy! No, really, will you let me sit on your lap for a little, you won’t be angry? Tell me—I’ll jump off.”
Alyosha was silent. He sat afraid to move; he heard her say: “Tell me—I’ll jump off,” but did not answer, as if he were frozen. Yet what was happening in him was not what might have been expected, or what might have been imagined, for example, by Rakitin, who was watching carnivorously from where he sat. The great grief in his soul absorbed all the feelings his heart might have conceived, and if he had been able at that moment to give himself a full accounting, he would have understood that he was now wearing the strongest armor against any seduction and temptation. Nevertheless, despite all the vague unaccountability of his state of soul and all the grief that was weighing on him, he still could not help marveling at a new and strange sensation that was awakening in his heart: this woman, this “horrible” woman, not only did not arouse in him the fear he had felt before, the fear that used to spring up in him every time he thought of a woman, if such a thought flashed through his soul, but, on the contrary, this woman, of whom he was afraid most of all, who was sitting on his knees and embracing him, now aroused in him suddenly quite a different, unexpected, and special feeling, the feeling of some remarkable, great, and most pure-hearted curiosity, and without any fear now, without a trace of his former terror—that was the main thing, and it could not but surprise him.
“Stop babbling nonsense,” Rakitin cried. “You’d better bring us champagne, you owe it to me, you know!”
“It’s true, I owe it to him. I promised him champagne, Alyosha, on top of everything else, if he brought you to me. Let’s have champagne, I’ll drink, too! Fenya, Fenya, bring us champagne, the bottle Mitya left, run quickly. Though I’m stingy, I’ll stand you a bottle—not you, Rakitka, you’re a mushroom, but he is a prince! And though my soul is full of something else now, I’ll drink with you all the same, I want to be naughty!”
“But what is this moment of yours, and what, may I ask, is this message, or is it a secret?” Rakitin put in again with curiosity, pretending as hard as he could that he did not notice the barbs that kept coming at him.
“Eh, it’s no secret, and you know it yourself,” Grushenka suddenly said worriedly, turning to look at Rakitin and leaning back a little from Alyosha, though she stayed seated on his lap with her arm around his neck. “The officer is coming, Rakitin, my officer is coming!”
“I heard he was coming, but is he so nearby?”
“He’s at Mokroye now, he’ll send me a messenger from there, he wrote me so, the letter came just today. I’m sitting here waiting for the messenger.” “Aha! But why in Mokroye?”
“It’s a long story, I’ve told you enough.”
“Take that, Mitenka—ai, ai! Does he know?”
“Know? He doesn’t know anything. If he found out, he’d kill me. But now I’m not afraid at all, I’m not afraid of his knife now. Shut up, Rakitin, don’t remind me of Dmitri Fyodorovich: he’s turned my heart to mush. And I don’t want to think about anything right now. But I can think about Alyoshechka, I’m looking at Alyoshechka ... Smile at me, darling, cheer up, smile at my foolishness, at my joy ... He smiled, he smiled! What a tender look! You know, Alyosha, I keep thinking you must be angry with me because of two days ago, because of the young lady. I was a bitch, that’s what ... Only it’s still good that it happened that way. It was bad, and it was good,” Grushenka suddenly smiled meaningly, and a cruel little line suddenly flashed in her smile. “Mitya says she shouted: ‘She should be flogged! ‘ I must really have offended her. She invited me, wanted to win me over, to seduce me with her chocolate ... No,it’s good that it happened that way,”she smiled again.”But I’m still afraid you’re angry ...”
“Really,” Rakitin suddenly put in again with serious surprise, “she’s really afraid of you, Alyosha, chicken that you are.”
“To you he’s a chicken, Rakitin, that’s what ... because you have no conscience, that’s what! You see, I love him with my soul, that’s what! Do you believe me, Alyosha, that I love you with all my soul?”
“Ah, shameless! She’s confessing her love for you, Alexei!”
“Why not? I do love him.”
“And the officer? And the golden message from Mokroye?” “That’s one thing, and this is another. “ “Just like a woman!”
“Don’t make me angry, Rakitka,” Grushenka caught him up hotly. “That is one thing, and this is another. I love Alyosha differently. It’s true I had sly thoughts about you, Alyosha. I’m a low woman, I’m a violent woman, yet there are moments, Alyosha, when I look upon you as my conscience. I keep thinking: ‘How a man like him must despise a bad woman like me.’ I thought the same thing two days ago, as I was running home from the young lady’s. I noticed you long ago, Alyosha, and Mitya knows, I told him. And Mitya understands. Will you believe, Alyosha, really I look at you sometimes and feel ashamed, ashamed of myself ... And I don’t know, I don’t remember how it was that I started thinking about you, or when it was ...”
Fenya came in and placed a tray on the table, with an uncorked bottle of champagne and three full glasses on it.
“Here’s the champagne!” Rakitin cried. “You’re excited, Agrafena Alexandrovna, and beside yourself. You’ll drink a glass and start dancing. Ehh, even this they couldn’t get right,” he added, examining the champagne. “The old woman poured it in the kitchen, and they brought the bottle without the cork, and it’s warm. Well, let’s have it anyway.”
He went up to the table, took a glass, drank it in one gulp, and poured himself another.
“One doesn’t bump into champagne too often,” he said, licking his chops. “Hey, Alyosha, take a glass, prove yourself. What are we going to drink to? To the gates of paradise? Grusha, take a glass, drink with us to the gates of paradise.”
“What gates of paradise?”
She took her glass. Alyosha took his, sipped at it, and set the glass down again.
“No, I’d better not,” he smiled quietly.
“But you boasted . . .!” Rakitin cried.
“Then I won’t drink either,” Grushenka cut in, “I don’t want to anyway. Drink the whole bottle yourself, Rakitka. If Alyosha drinks, I’ll drink, too.”