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作者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"Excuse me, sir," said Luzhin, quivering with fury. "I enlarged
upon your qualities and conduct in my letter solely in response
to your sister's and mother's inquiries, how I found you, and
what impression you made on me. As for what you've alluded to in
my letter, be so good as to point out one word of falsehood,
show, that is, that you didn't throw away your money, and that
there are not worthless persons in that family, however
unfortunate."
"To my thinking, you, with all your virtues, are not worth the
little finger of that unfortunate girl at whom you throw stones."
"Would you go so far then as to let her associate with your
mother and sister?"
"I have done so already, if you care to know. I made her sit down
to-day with mother and Dounia."
"Rodya!" cried Pulcheria Alexandrovna. Dounia crimsoned,
Razumihin knitted his brows. Luzhin smiled with lofty sarcasm.

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