“You ought to go, you ought to go,” Alyosha repeated with merciless emphasis.
“But why to‐day, why at once?... I can’t leave our patient—”
“You can for a moment. It will only be a moment. If you don’t come, he will be in delirium by to‐night. I would not tell you a lie; have pity on him!”
“Have pity on me!” Katya said, with bitter reproach, and she burst into tears.
“Then you will come,” said Alyosha firmly, seeing her tears. “I’ll go and tell him you will come directly.”
“No, don’t tell him so on any account,” cried Katya in alarm. “I will come, but don’t tell him beforehand, for perhaps I may go, but not go in.... I don’t know yet—”
Her voice failed her. She gasped for breath. Alyosha got up to go.
“And what if I meet any one?” she said suddenly, in a low voice, turning white again.
“That’s just why you must go now, to avoid meeting any one. There will be no one there, I can tell you that for certain. We will expect you,” he concluded emphatically, and went out of the room.