how they repay me for my kindness. . . ."

They all looked into their plates, but Mashenka fancied after the
lady's words that every one was looking at her. A lump rose in her
throat; she began crying and put her handkerchief to her lips.

"_Pardon_," she muttered. "I can't help it. My head aches. I'll go
away."

And she got up from the table, scraping her chair awkwardly, and
went out quickly, still more overcome with confusion.

"It's beyond everything!" said Nikolay Sergeitch, frowning. "What
need was there to search her room? How out of place it was!"

"I don't say she took the brooch," said Fedosya Vassilyevna, "but
can you answer for her? To tell the truth, I haven't much confidence
in these learned paupers."

"It really was unsuitable, Fenya. . . . Excuse me, Fenya, but you've
no kind of legal right to make a search."

"I know nothing about your laws. All I know is that I've lost my
brooch. And I will find the brooch!" She brought her fork down on
the plate with a clatter, and her eyes flashed angrily. "And you
eat your dinner, and don't interfere in what doesn't concern you!"

Nikolay Sergeitch dropped his eyes mildly and sighed. Meanwhile
Mashenka, reaching her room, flung herself on her bed. She felt now
neither alarm nor shame, but she felt an intense longing to go and