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"Just now... half an hour ago, Ilya Petrovitch, the assistant

superintendent, on the stairs.... Why was he ill-treating her

like that, and... why was he here?"

Nastasya scrutinised him, silent and frowning, and her scrutiny

lasted a long time. He felt uneasy, even frightened at her

searching eyes.

"Nastasya, why don't you speak?" he said timidly at last in a

weak voice.

"It's the blood," she answered at last softly, as though speaking

to herself.

"Blood? What blood?" he muttered, growing white and turning

towards the wall.

Nastasya still looked at him without speaking.

"Nobody has been beating the landlady," she declared at last in a

firm, resolute voice.

He gazed at her, hardly able to breathe.

"I heard it myself.... I was not asleep... I was sitting up," he

said still more timidly. "I listened a long while. The assistant

superintendent came.... Everyone ran out on to the stairs from

all the flats."