invalid chair you must have thought over many things already.”
“Alyosha, give me your hand. Why are you taking it away?” murmured Lise in a failing voice, weak with happiness.
“Listen, Alyosha. What will you wear when you come out of the monastery? What sort of suit? Don’t laugh, don’t be angry, it’s very, very important to me.”
“I haven’t thought about the suit, Lise; but I’ll wear whatever you like.”
“I should like you to have a dark blue velvet coat, a white piqué waistcoat, and a soft gray felt hat. … Tell me, did you believe that I didn’t care for you when I said I didn’t mean what I wrote?”
“No, I didn’t believe it.”
“Oh, you insupportable person, you are incorrigible.”
“You see, I knew that you—seemed to care for me, but I pretended to believe that you didn’t care for me to make it—easier for you.”
“That makes it worse! Worse and better than all! Alyosha, I am awfully