puto .”
“What, what, Satan sum et nihil humanum … that’s not bad for the devil!”
“I am glad I’ve pleased you at last.”
“But you didn’t get that from me.”
Ivan stopped suddenly, seeming struck. “That never entered my head, that’s strange.”
“ C’est du nouveau, n’est-ce pas? This time I’ll act honestly and explain to you. Listen, in dreams and especially in nightmares, from indigestion or anything, a man sees sometimes such artistic visions, such complex and real actuality, such events, even a whole world of events, woven into such a plot, with such unexpected details from the most exalted matters to the last button on a cuff, as I swear Leo Tolstoy has never invented. Yet such dreams are sometimes seen not by writers, but by the most ordinary people, officials, journalists, priests. … The subject is a complete enigma. A statesman confessed to me, indeed, that all