in his heart. The one window of the cell was open, the air was fresh and cool. > “So the smell must have become stronger, if they opened the window,” thought Alyosha. But even this thought of the smell of corruption, which had seemed to him so awful and humiliating a few hours before, no longer made him feel miserable or indignant. He began quietly praying, but he soon felt that he was praying almost mechanically. Fragments of thought floated through his soul, flashed like stars and went out again at once, to be succeeded by others. But yet there was reigning in his soul a sense of the wholeness of things—something steadfast and comforting—and he was aware of it himself. Sometimes he began praying ardently, he longed to pour out his thankfulness and love.
But when he had begun to pray, he passed suddenly to something else, and sank into thought, forgetting both the prayer and what had interrupted it.
He began listening to what Father Païssy was reading, but worn out with exhaustion he gradually began to doze.
“ And the third day there was a marriage in Cana of Galilee; ” read Father Païssy. “ And the mother of Jesus was there; And both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the marriage. ”
“Marriage? What’s that? … A marriage!” floated whirling through Alyosha’s mind. “There is happiness for her, too. … She has gone to the feast. … No, she has not taken the knife. … That was only a tragic phrase. … Well … tragic phrases should be forgiven, they must be. Tragic phrases comfort the heart. … Without them, sorrow would be too heavy for men to bear. Rakitin has gone off to the back alley. As long as Rakitin broods over his wrongs, he will always go off to the