at him wonderingly; probably the genuineness of Ivan’s horror struck him.
“You don’t mean to say you really did not know?” he faltered mistrustfully, looking with a forced smile into his eyes. Ivan still gazed at him, and seemed unable to speak.
Ach, Vanka’s gone to Petersburg; I won’t wait till he comes back, suddenly echoed in his head.
“Do you know, I am afraid that you are a dream, a phantom sitting before me,” he muttered.
“There’s no phantom here, but only us two and one other. No doubt he is here, that third, between us.”
“Who is he? Who is here? What third person?” Ivan cried in alarm, looking about him, his eyes hastily searching in every corner.
“That third is God Himself—Providence. He is the third beside us now. Only don’t look for Him, you won’t find Him.”
“It’s a lie that you killed him!” Ivan cried madly. “You