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著者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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Andrey Semyonovitch had been at home all the morning. The
attitude of Pyotr Petrovitch to this gentleman was strange,
though perhaps natural. Pyotr Petrovitch had despised and hated
him from the day he came to stay with him and at the same time he
seemed somewhat afraid of him. He had not come to stay with him
on his arrival in Petersburg simply from parsimony, though that
had been perhaps his chief object. He had heard of Andrey
Semyonovitch, who had once been his ward, as a leading young
progressive who was taking an important part in certain
interesting circles, the doings of which were a legend in the
provinces. It had impressed Pyotr Petrovitch. These powerful
omniscient circles who despised everyone and showed everyone up
had long inspired in him a peculiar but quite vague alarm. He had
not, of course, been able to form even an approximate notion of
what they meant.

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