"She'snowwithhim," hethought, "nowIshallseewhatshelookslikewithhim, herfirstlove, andthat'sallIwant." Neverhadthiswoman, whowassuchafatefulinfluenceinhislife, arousedsuchloveinhisbreast, suchnewandunknownfeeling, surprisingeventohimself, afeelingtendertodevoutness, toselfeffacementbeforeher! "Iwilleffacemyself!" hesaid, inarushofalmosthystericalecstasy.

, andthoughAndreywas, asarule, atalkativepeasant, hedidnotutteraword, , heonlywhippedupsmartlyhisthreelean, butmettlesome, :

"Andrey! Whatifthey'reasleep?"

.

"Itmaywellbethatthey'regonetobed, bynow, DmitriFyodorovitch."

, indeed...hewasrushingthere...withsuchfeelings...whiletheywereasleep...shewasasleep, perhaps, theretoo....Anangryfeelingsurgedupinhisheart.

"Driveon, Andrey! Whipthemup! Lookalive!" hecried, besidehimself.

"Butmaybethey'renotinbed!" Andreywentonafterapause."Timofeysaidtheywerealotofthemthere—"

"Atthestation?"

"Notattheposting-station, butatPlastunov's, attheinn, wheretheyletouthorses, too."

"? How'sthat? Whoarethey?" criedMitya, greatlydismayedatthisunexpectednews.

"Well, Timofeywassayingthey'—whotheyareIcan'tsay—andtherearetwoothers, strangers, ''vesettoplayingcards, soTimofeysaid."

"Cards?"

"So, maybethey'renotinbedifthey''smostlikelynotmorethaneleven."

"Quicker, Andrey! Quicker!" Mityacriedagain, nervously.

"MayIaskyousomething, sir?" saidAndrey, afterapause."OnlyI'mafraidofangeringyou, sir."

"Whatisit?"