The Portrait's Power — The Idiot

The letter is not sealed, and Gania pauses on that fact as if it were the secret. The prince has only been sent to fetch a portrait. Mrs. Epanchin wanted it the moment he compared Aglaya to Nastasya Filippovna, a different type, almost as lovely, a riddle he has not prepared. Aglaya had warned that his simplicity might hide a motive. He cannot say anything about her face yet. He will tell them afterwards. In the study Gania mutters idiot, then holds out a small note for Aglaya alone, nobody else to see. The prince does not quite like it. He takes it anyway. He will not show it. He will not read it. Gania, left with his papers, says one word from her and he may yet be free.

Two rooms from the drawing-room the prince stops at a window, nearer the light. The pale thin face has pride almost like hatred, and something confiding beside it. He kisses the portrait in a hurry and composes his face before the door. Aglaya takes the note without confusion, looks at him as if to ask how he and Gania are connected, and passes with a faint smile. Mrs. Epanchin holds the picture at arm's length. She has seen this woman twice, at a distance. He admires this kind especially. There is much suffering in this face. She tosses the portrait on the table. Adelaida says such beauty is real power; with it one might overthrow the world. Aglaya glances, frowns, and folds her hands. The house, Mrs. Epanchin says, is all secrets now, and she does not like this marriage. Gania, asked if he is going to be married, says no with a blush. She will remember that he told her so this Wednesday morning, the twenty-seventh.

Aglaya dictates into her album: I never condescend to bargain. Then she takes the prince to the dining-room and makes him read the unsealed note. Break off the whole thing, it begs, one word of sympathy, nothing more, and he will drop the hundred thousand. She says if he had broken first, with no hope from her, she might have been his friend. He cannot trust. He wants hopes of her before he lets go of the money. The former word that lighted his night was only pity; he began to hope at once. No answer is the best answer. Give the letter back after they have left the house, not before. He will not forgive you easily for taking it back.

On the pavement Gania first decides the prince never delivered it, then that he read it himself. The prince repeats her sense: fishing, a guarantee first, no answer. Gania yells that she does not condescend to bargain while he does, and that he will pay her out. He counts the prince a nobody, then jealousy starts: why did they fancy this man in two hours? Switzerland, executions, a peasant girl, Schneider, faces, the portrait blurted. Did he repeat the study talk? Did she show the letter to her mother? The prince says no. Gania calls him an idiot to his face. At a crossroad the prince names twenty-five roubles and a lodging of his own, left for Gania, right for himself. Gania blushes, apologises, and they walk on. He is not going to let him go like this. There is a mask, he thinks, and tonight will make the water clear. By this time they have reached Gania's house.