somewhere on the Chinese frontier, some puny little beggar of a Pole, I expect. Lost his job, they say. He’s heard now that Grushenka’s saved a little money, so he’s turned up again—that’s the explanation of the mystery.”
Again Alyosha seemed not to hear. Rakitin could not control himself.
“Well, so you’ve saved the sinner?” he laughed spitefully. “Have you turned the Magdalene into the true path? Driven out the seven devils, eh? So you see the miracles you were looking out for just now have come to pass!”
“Hush, Rakitin,” Alyosha answered with an aching heart.
“So you despise me now for those twenty-five roubles? I’ve sold my friend, you think. But you are not Christ, you know, and I am not Judas.”
“Oh, Rakitin, I assure you I’d forgotten about it,” cried Alyosha, “you remind me of it yourself. …”
But this was the last straw for Rakitin.
“Damnation take you