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Yazar: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"No, it's only the second, really! But what if it were the
fourth, what if it were the fifteenth, that's all nonsense! And
if ever I regretted the death of my father and mother, it is now,
and I sometimes think if my parents were living what a protest I
would have aimed at them! I would have done something on
purpose... I would have shown them! I would have astonished them!
I am really sorry there is no one!"
"To surprise! He-he! Well, be that as you will," Pyotr Petrovitch
interrupted, "but tell me this; do you know the dead man's
daughter, the delicate-looking little thing? It's true what they
say about her, isn't it?"

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