uneasy—we would not come to this little town. We’d hide somewhere, a long way off, in the north or in the south. I shall be changed by that time, and she will, too, in America. The doctors shall make me some sort of wart on my face—what’s the use of their being so mechanical!—or else I’ll put out one eye, let my beard grow a yard, and I shall turn gray, fretting for Russia. I dare say they won’t recognize us. And if they do, let them send us to Siberia. I don’t care. It will show it’s our fate. We’ll work on the land here, too, somewhere in the wilds, and I’ll make up as an American all my life. But we shall die on our own soil. That’s my plan, and it shan’t be altered. Do you approve?”
“Yes,” said Alyosha, not wanting to contradict him. Mitya paused for a minute and said suddenly:
“And how they worked it up at the trial! Didn’t they work it up!”
“If they had not, you would have been convicted just the same,” said Alyosha, with a sigh.
“Yes, people are sick of me here! God bless them, but it’s hard,” Mitya moaned miserably. Again there was silence for a minute.
“Alyosha, put me out of my misery at once!” he exclaimed suddenly. “Tell me, is she coming now, or not? Tell me? What did she say? How did she say it?”
“She said she would come, but I don’t know whether she will come today. It’s hard for her, you know,” Alyosha looked timidly at his brother.
“I should think it is hard for her! Alyosha, it will drive me out of my mind. Grusha keeps looking at me. She understands. My God, calm my heart: what is it I want? I want Katya! Do I understand what I want? It’s the headstrong, evil Karamazov spirit! No, I am not fit for suffering. I am a scoundrel, that’s all one can say.”