“I’ll tell you later, Lise—afterwards,” said Alyosha, confused. “Now you wouldn’t understand it perhaps—and perhaps I couldn’t explain it.” “I know your brothers and your father are worrying you, too.” “Yes, my brothers too,” murmured Alyosha, pondering. “I don’t like your brother Ivan, Alyosha,” said Lise suddenly. He noticed this remark with some surprise, but did not answer it. “My brothers are destroying themselves,” he went on, “my father, too. And they are destroying others with them. It’s ‘the primitive force of the Karamazovs,’ as Father Païssy said the other day, a crude, unbridled, earthly force. Does the spirit of God move above that force? Even that I don’t know. I only know that I, too, am a Karamazov.... Me a monk, a monk! Am I a monk, Lise? You said just now that I was.” “Yes, I did.” “And perhaps I don’t even believe in God.” “You don’t believe? What is the matter?” said Lise quietly and gently. But Alyosha did not answer. There was something too mysterious, too subjective in these last words of his, perhaps obscure to himself, but yet torturing him. “And now on the top of it all, my friend, the best man in the world, is going, is leaving the earth! If you knew, Lise, how bound up in soul I am with him! And then I shall be left alone.... I shall come to you, Lise.... For the future we will be together.” “Yes, together, together! Henceforward we shall be always together, all our lives! Listen, kiss me, I allow you.” Alyosha kissed her. “Come, now go. Christ be with you!” and she made the sign of the cross over him. “Make haste back to _him_ while he is alive. I see I’ve kept you cruelly. I’ll pray to-day for him and you. Alyosha, we shall be happy! Shall we be happy, shall we?” “I believe we shall, Lise.” Alyosha thought it better not to go in to Madame Hohlakov and was going out of the house without saying good-by to her. But no sooner had he opened the door than he found Madame Hohlakov standing before him. From the first word Alyosha guessed that she had been waiting on purpose to meet him. “Alexey Fyodorovitch, this is awful. This is all childish nonsense and ridiculous. I trust you won’t dream—It’s foolishness, nothing but foolishness!” she said, attacking him at once. “Only don’t tell her that,” said Alyosha, “or she will be upset, and that’s bad for her now.” “Sensible advice from a sensible young man. Am I to understand that you only agreed with her from compassion for her invalid state, because you didn’t want to irritate her by contradiction?” “Oh, no, not at all. I was quite serious in what I said,” Alyosha declared stoutly. “To be serious about it is impossible, unthinkable, and in the first place I shall never be at home to you again, and I shall take her away, you may be sure of that.” “But why?” asked Alyosha. “It’s all so far off. We may have to wait another year and a half.”