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作者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"You've told us a great deal that is interesting about my
brother's character... and have told it impartially. I am glad. I
thought that you were too uncritically devoted to him," observed
Avdotya Romanovna with a smile. "I think you are right that he
needs a woman's care," she added thoughtfully.
"I didn't say so; but I daresay you are right, only..."
"What?"
"He loves no one and perhaps he never will," Razumihin declared
decisively.
"You mean he is not capable of love?"
"Do you know, Avdotya Romanovna, you are awfully like your
brother, in everything, indeed!" he blurted out suddenly to his
own surprise, but remembering at once what he had just before
said of her brother, he turned as red as a crab and was overcome
with confusion. Avdotya Romanovna couldn't help laughing when she
looked at him.

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