8. CHAPTER VIII.
SHE laughed, but she was rather angry too.
"He's asleep! You were asleep," she said, with contemptuous
"Is it really you?" muttered the prince, not quite himself as
yet, and recognizing her with a start of amazement. "Oh yes, of
course," he added, "this is our rendezvous. I fell asleep here."
"So I saw."
"Did no one awake me besides yourself? Was there no one else
here? I thought there was another woman."
"There was another woman here?"
At last he was wide awake.
"It was a dream, of course," he said, musingly. "Strange that I
should have a dream like that at such a moment. Sit down--"
He took her hand and seated her on the bench; then sat down
beside her and reflected.
Aglaya did not begin the conversation, but contented herself with
watching her companion intently.
He looked back at her, but at times it was clear that he did not
see her and was not thinking of her.
Aglaya began to flush up.
"Oh yes!" cried the prince, starting. "Hippolyte's suicide--"
"What? At your house?" she asked, but without much surprise. "He
was alive yesterday evening, wasn't he? How could you sleep here
after that?" she cried, growing suddenly animated.
"Oh, but he didn't kill himself; the pistol didn't go off."
Aglaya insisted on hearing the whole story. She hurried the
prince along, but interrupted him with all sorts of questions,
nearly all of which were irrelevant. Among other things, she
seemed greatly interested in every word that Evgenie Pavlovitch
had said, and made the prince repeat that part of the story over
and over again.