“He’s not mad, but one of those shallow-minded people,” he mumbled listlessly. “ Ces gens-là supposent la nature et la societé humaine autres que Dieu ne les a faites et qu’elles ne sont réellement. People try to make up to them, but Stepan Verhovensky does not, anyway. I saw them that time in Petersburg avec cette chère amie (oh, how I used to wound her then), and I wasn’t afraid of their abuse or even of their praise. I’m not afraid now either. Mais parlons d’autre chose. ⁠ ⁠… I believe I have done dreadful things. Only fancy, I sent a letter yesterday to Darya Pavlovna and⁠ ⁠… how I curse myself for it!”

“What did you write about?”

“Oh, my friend, believe me, it was all done in a noble spirit. I let her know that I had written to Nicolas five days before, also in a noble spirit.”

“I understand now!” I cried with heat. “And what right had you to couple their names like that?”