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Yazar: Leo Tolstoy

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If he'd killed me, if he'd killed him, I could have borne
anything, I could have forgiven anything; but, no, he.... How was
it I didn't guess what he would do? He's doing just what's
characteristic of his mean character. He'll keep himself in the
right, while me, in my ruin, he'll drive still lower to worse
ruin yet...."
She recalled the words from the letter. "You can conjecture what
awaits you and your son...." "That's a threat to take away my
child, and most likely by their stupid law he can. But I know
very well why he says it. He doesn't believe even in my love for
my child, or he despises it (just as he always used to ridicule
it). He despises that feeling in me, but he knows that I won't
abandon my child, that I can't abandon my child, that there could
be no life for me without my child, even with him whom I love;
but that if I abandoned my child and ran away from him, I should
be acting like the most infamous, basest of women. He knows that,
and knows that I am incapable of doing that."

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