I felt that it was nice to be despised. The child with fingers cut off is nice, and to be despised is nice. …”
And she laughed in Alyosha’s face, a feverish malicious laugh.
“Do you know, Alyosha, do you know, I should like—Alyosha, save me!” She suddenly jumped from the couch, rushed to him and seized him with both hands.
“Save me!” she almost groaned. “Is there anyone in the world I could tell what I’ve told you? I’ve told you the truth, the truth. I shall kill myself, because I loathe everything! I don’t want to live, because I loathe everything! I loathe everything, everything. Alyosha, why don’t you love me in the least?” she finished in a frenzy.
“But I do love you!” answered Alyosha warmly.
“And will you weep over me, will you?”
“Yes.”
“Not because I won’t be your wife, but simply weep for me?”
“Yes.”