"I've heard that you've had a hard life with your brother without me?" "Who told you that? It's nonsense. It's much worse now. Now my dreams are not good, and my dreams are bad, because you've come. What have you come for, I'd like to know. Tell me please?" "Wouldn't you like to go back into the nunnery?" "I knew they'd suggest the nunnery again. Your nunnery is a fine marvel for me! And why should I go to it? What should I go for now? I'm all alone in the world now. It's too late for me to begin a third life." "You seem very angry about something. Surely you're not afraid that I've left off loving you?" "I'm not troubling about you at all. I'm afraid that I may leave off loving somebody." She laughed contemptuously. "I must have done him some great wrong," she added suddenly, as it were to herself, "only I don't know what I've done wrong; that's always what troubles me. Always, always, for the last five years. I've been afraid day and night that I've done him some wrong. I've prayed and prayed and always thought of the great wrong I'd done him. And now it turns out it was true." "What's turned out?" "I'm only afraid whether there's something on _his_ side," she went on, not answering his question, not hearing it in fact. "And then, again, he couldn't get on with such horrid people. The countess would have liked to eat me, though she did make me sit in the carriage beside her. They're all in the plot. Surely he's not betrayed me?" (Her chin and lips were twitching.) "Tell me, have you read about Grishka Otrepyev, how he was cursed in seven cathedrals?" Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch did not speak. "But I'll turn round now and look at you." She seemed to decide suddenly. "You turn to me, too, and look at me, but more attentively. I want to make sure for the last time." "I've been looking at you for a long time." "H'm!" said Marya Timofyevna, looking at him intently. "You've grown much fatter." She wanted to say something more, but suddenly, for the third time, the same terror instantly distorted her face, and again she drew back, putting her hand up before her. "What's the matter with you?" cried Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch, almost enraged. But her panic lasted only one instant, her face worked with a sort of strange smile, suspicious and unpleasant. "I beg you, prince, get up and come in," she brought out suddenly, in a firm, emphatic voice. "Come in? Where am I to come in?" "I've been fancying for five years how _he_ would come in. Get up and go out of the door into the other room. I'll sit as though I weren't expecting anything, and I'll take up a book, and suddenly you'll come in after five years' travelling. I want to see what it will be like." Nikolay Vsyevolodovitch ground his teeth, and muttered something to himself.