But the situation was becoming rapidly critical.
Mrs. Epanchin could bear her suspense no longer, and in spite of the opposition of husband and daughters, she sent for Aglaya, determined to get a straightforward answer out of her, once for all.
“Otherwise,” she observed hysterically, “I shall die before evening.”
It was only now that everyone realized to what a ridiculous dead-lock the whole matter had been brought. Excepting feigned surprise, indignation, laughter, and jeering—both at the prince and at everyone who asked her questions,—nothing could be got out of Aglaya.
Lizabetha Prokofievna went to bed and only rose again in time for tea, when the prince might be expected.
She awaited him in trembling agitation; and when he at last arrived she nearly went off into hysterics.
Muish
