“Well, just you listen—you'll hear that, and more besides!”
“But how am I to listen?”
“Here, bend down here. Do you see that keyhole!”
“Oh! but, Nastasia Petrovna, I can't eavesdrop, you know!”
“Oh, nonsense, nonsense! Put your pride in your pocket! You've come, and you must listen now!”
“Well, at all events——”
“Oh! if you can't bear to be an eavesdropper, let it alone, and be made a fool of! One goes out of one's way solely out of pity for you, and you must needs make difficulties! What is it to me? I'm not doing this for myself! I shall leave the house before night, in any case!”
Paul, steeling his heart, bent to the keyhole.
His pulses were raging and throbbing. He did not realise what was going on, or what he was doing, or where he was.