say something, but he couldn’t find a word. His heart ached.

“Go away, Alexey Fyodorovitch! It’s shameful, it’s awful for me! Tomorrow, I beg you on my knees, come tomorrow. Don’t condemn me. Forgive me. I don’t know what I shall do with myself now!”

Alyosha walked out into the street reeling. He could have wept as she did. Suddenly he was overtaken by the maid.

“The young lady forgot to give you this letter from Madame Hohlakov; it’s been left with us since dinnertime.”

Alyosha took the little pink envelope mechanically and put it, almost unconsciously, into his pocket.

XI

Another Reputation Ruined

It was not much more than three-quarters of a mile from the town to the monastery. Alyosha walked quickly along the road, at that hour deserted. It was almost night, and too dark to see anything clearly at thirty paces ahead. There were