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作者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"You mean to say that I am seeking my own ends. Don't be uneasy,
Rodion Romanovitch, if I were working for my own advantage, I
would not have spoken out so directly. I am not quite a fool. I
will confess something psychologically curious about that: just
now, defending my love for Avdotya Romanovna, I said I was myself
the victim. Well, let me tell you that I've no feeling of love
now, not the slightest, so that I wonder myself indeed, for I
really did feel something..."
"Through idleness and depravity," Raskolnikov put in.
"I certainly am idle and depraved, but your sister has such
qualities that even I could not help being impressed by them. But
that's all nonsense, as I see myself now."
"Have you seen that long?"
"I began to be aware of it before, but was only perfectly sure of
it the day before yesterday, almost at the moment I arrived in
Petersburg. I still fancied in Moscow, though, that I was coming
to try to get Avdotya Romanovna's hand and to cut out Mr.
Luzhin."

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