not?” She sat up on the couch, with flashing eyes.
“Tell me,” Alyosha asked anxiously, “did you send for that person?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you send him a letter?”
“Yes.”
“Simply to ask about that, about that child?”
“No, not about that at all. But when he came, I asked him about that at once. He answered, laughed, got up and went away.”
“That person behaved honorably,” Alyosha murmured.
“And did he despise me? Did he laugh at me?”
“No, for perhaps he believes in the pineapple compote himself. He is very ill now, too, Lise.”
“Yes, he does believe in it,” said Lise, with flashing eyes.
“He doesn’t despise anyone,” Alyosha went on. “Only he does not believe anyone. If he doesn’t believe in people, of course, he does despise them.”
“Then he despises me, me?”
“You, too.”
“Good,” Lise seemed to grind her teeth. “When he went out laughing,