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作者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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I don't condemn her for it, I don't blame her, for the one thing
left her is recollection of the past, and all the rest is dust
and ashes. Yes, yes, she is a lady of spirit, proud and
determined. She scrubs the floors herself and has nothing but
black bread to eat, but won't allow herself to be treated with
disrespect. That's why she would not overlook Mr. Lebeziatnikov's
rudeness to her, and so when he gave her a beating for it, she
took to her bed more from the hurt to her feelings than from the
blows. She was a widow when I married her, with three children,
one smaller than the other. She married her first husband, an
infantry officer, for love, and ran away with him from her
father's house. She was exceedingly fond of her husband; but he
gave way to cards, got into trouble and with that he died.

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