it were, in her apparent wrath, that it was impossible to avoid smiling at her, to her own unutterable indignation.
On these occasions she would say, “How can they, how dare they laugh at me?”
This time everyone laughed at her, her sisters, Prince S., Prince Muishkin (though he himself had flushed for some reason), and Colia. Aglaya was dreadfully indignant, and looked twice as pretty in her wrath.
“He’s always twisting round what one says,” she cried.
“I am only repeating your own exclamation!” said Colia. “A month ago you were turning over the pages of your Don Quixote, and suddenly called out ‘there is nothing better than the