Yes, it was. I see that you, too, are extremely interested and shall feel it my duty to satisfy your curiosity
at the first opportunity. Upon my soul! I see that I really might pass for a romantic figure with some
people. Judge how grateful I must be to Marfa Petrovna for having repeated to Avdotya Romanovna
such mysterious and interesting gossip about me. I dare not guess what impression it made on her, but
in any case it worked in my interests. With all Avdotya Romanovnas natural aversion and in spite of
my invariably gloomy and repellent aspectshe did at least feel pity for me, pity for a lost soul. And if
once a girls heart is moved to pity, its more dangerous than anything. She is bound to want to save
him, to bring him to his senses, and lift him up and draw him to nobler aims, and restore him to new life
and usefulnesswell, we all know how far such dreams can go. I saw at once that the bird was flying
into the cage of herself. And I too made ready. I think you are frowning, Rodion Romanovitch? Theres
no need. As you know, it all ended in smoke. (Hang it all, what a lot I am drinking!) Do you know, I
always, from the very beginning, regretted that it wasnt your sisters fate to be born in the second or
third century A.D., as the daughter of a reigning prince or some governor or pro-consul in Asia Minor.
She would undoubtedly have been one of those who would endure martyrdom and would have smiled
when they branded her bosom with hot pincers. And she would have gone to it of herself. And in the
fourth or fifth century she would have walked away into the Egyptian desert and would have stayed
there thirty years living on roots and ecstasies and visions. She is simply thirsting to face some torture
for someone, and if she cant get her torture, shell throw herself out of a window. Ive heard something
of a Mr. Razumihinhes said to be a sensible fellow; his surname suggests it, indeed. Hes probably
a divinity student. Well, hed better look after your sister! I believe I understand her, and I am proud of
it. But at the beginning of an acquaintance, as you know, one is apt to be more heedless and stupid.
One doesnt see clearly. Hang it all, why is she so handsome? Its not my fault. In fact, it began on
my side with a most irresistible physical desire. Avdotya Romanovna is awfully chaste, incredibly and
phenomenally so. Take note, I tell you this about your sister as a fact. She is almost morbidly chaste,
in spite of her broad intelligence, and it will stand in her way. There happened to be a girl in the house
then, Parasha, a black-eyed wench, whom I had never seen beforeshe had just come from another
villagevery pretty, but incredibly stupid: she burst into tears, wailed so that she could be heard all over
the place and caused scandal. One day after dinner Avdotya Romanovna followed me into an avenue
in the garden and with flashing eyes insisted on my leaving poor Parasha alone. It was almost our
first conversation by ourselves. I, of course, was only too pleased to obey her wishes, tried to appear
disconcerted, embarrassed, in fact played my part not badly. Then came interviews, mysterious conversations,
exhortations, entreaties, supplications, even tearswould you believe it, even tears? Think what the
passion for propaganda will bring some girls to! I, of course, threw it all on my destiny, posed as hungering
and thirsting for light, and finally resorted to the most powerful weapon in the subjection of the female
heart, a weapon which never fails one. Its the well-known resourceflattery. Nothing in the world is
harder than speaking the truth and nothing easier than flattery. If theres the hundredth part of a false
note in speaking the truth, it leads to a discord, and that leads to trouble. But if all, to the last note, is
false in flattery, it is just as agreeable, and is heard not without satisfaction. It may be a coarse satisfaction,
but still a satisfaction. And however coarse the flattery, at least half will be sure to seem true. Thats
so for all stages of development and classes of society. A vestal virgin might be seduced by flattery. I
can never remember without laughter how I once seduced a lady who was devoted to her husband, her
children, and her principles. What fun it was and how little trouble! And the lady really had principlesof
her own, anyway. All my tactics lay in simply being utterly annihilated and prostrate before her purity.
I flattered her shamelessly, and as soon as I succeeded in getting a pressure of the hand, even a glance
from her, I would reproach myself for having snatched it by force, and would declare that she had resisted,
so that I could never have gained anything but for my being so unprincipled. I maintained that she was
so innocent that she could not foresee my treachery, and yielded to me unconsciously, unawares, and
so on. In fact, I triumphed, while my lady remained firmly convinced that she was innocent, chaste, and
faithful to all her duties and obligations and had succumbed quite by accident. And how angry she was
with me when I explained to her at last that it was my sincere conviction that she was just as eager
as I. Poor Marfa Petrovna was awfully weak on the side of flattery, and if I had only cared to, I might
have had all her property settled on me during her lifetime. (I am drinking an awful lot of wine now and
talking too much.) I hope you wont be angry if I mention now that I was beginning to produce the same