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作者: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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And she never asks anyone for anything; she is proud, she'd
sooner give away everything. And these she asked for, she liked
them so much. And I was sorry to give them. 'What use are they to
you, Katerina Ivanovna?' I said. I spoke like that to her, I
ought not to have said that! She gave me such a look. And she was
so grieved, so grieved at my refusing her. And it was so sad to
see.... And she was not grieved for the collars, but for my
refusing, I saw that. Ah, if only I could bring it all back,
change it, take back those words! Ah, if I... but it's nothing to
you!"
"Did you know Lizaveta, the pedlar?"
"Yes.... Did you know her?" Sonia asked with some surprise.
"Katerina Ivanovna is in consumption, rapid consumption; she will
soon die," said Raskolnikov after a pause, without answering her
question.
"Oh, no, no, no!"
And Sonia unconsciously clutched both his hands, as though
imploring that she should not.
"But it will be better if she does die."

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