“You’ve spoken of that already,” Mitya observed musingly.
“And you have repeated it to Grusha,” observed Alyosha.
“Yes,” Mitya admitted. “She won’t come this morning.”
He looked timidly at his brother. “She won’t come till the evening. When I told her yesterday that Katya was taking measures, she was silent, but she set her mouth. She only whispered, ‘Let her!’ She understood that it was important. I did not dare to try her further. She understands now, I think, that Katya no longer cares for me, but loves Ivan.”
“Does she?” broke from Alyosha.
“Perhaps she does not. Only she is not coming this morning,” Mitya hastened to explain again; “I asked her to do something for me. You know, Ivan is superior to all of us. He ought to live, not us. He will recover.”
“Would you believe it, though Katya is alarmed about him, she scarcely doubts of his recovery,” said Alyosha.
“That means that she is convinced he will die. It’s because she is frightened she’s so sure he will get well.”
“Ivan has a strong constitution, and I, too, believe there’s every hope that he will get well,” Alyosha observed anxiously.
“Yes, he will get well. But she is convinced that he will die. She has a great deal of sorrow to bear …”
A silence followed. A grave anxiety was fretting Mitya.
“Alyosha, I love Grusha terribly,” he said suddenly in a shaking voice, full of tears.
“They won’t let her go out there to you,” Alyosha put in at once.