Everything is bound to come right in the end."
"You think so?"
"I don't think, young man. I just simply believe it."
"And is it to Peter Ivanovitch that you owe that faith?"
She did not answer the question, and they stood idle, silent, as if
reluctant to part with each other.
"That's just like a man," she murmured at last. "As if it were possible
to tell how a belief comes to one." Her thin Mephistophelian eyebrows
moved a little. "Truly there are millions of people in Russia who would
envy the life of dogs in this country. It is a horror and a shame to
confess this even between ourselves. One must believe for very pity.
This can't go on. No! It can't go on. For twenty years I have been
coming and going, looking neither to the left nor to the right....
What are you smiling to yourself for? You are only at the beginning. You
have begun well, but you just wait till you have trodden every particle
of yourself under your feet in your comings and goings. For that is
what it comes to. You've got to trample down every particle of your own
feelings; for stop you cannot, you must not. I have been young, too--but
perhaps you think that I am complaining-eh?"
"I don't think anything of the sort," protested Razumov indifferently.
"I dare say you don't, you dear superior creature.
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