The Idiot

by Fyodor Dostoevsky

If they had but known why, at this particular moment, they were both remarkable persons, they would undoubtedly have wondered at the strange chance which had set them down opposite to one another in a third-class carriage of the Warsaw Railway Company.

“The pleasure is, of course, mutual; but life is not all pleasure, as you are aware. There is such a thing as business,