She took him by the arm, led him to the table, and poured him out a glass of vodka.
"I will come to you again to-morrow," she said, "and I'll bring your grandchildren, Sasha and Lida. They will be sorry for you, and fondle you."
"There's no need. Don't bring them. They are illegitimate."
"Why are they illegitimate? Why, their father and mother were married."
"Without my permission. I do not bless them, and I don't want to know them. Let them be."
"You speak strangely, Fyodor Stepanovitch," said Yulia, with a sigh.
"It is written in the Gospel: children must fear and honour their parents."
"Nothing of the sort. The Gospel tells us that we must forgive even our enemies."
"One can't forgive in our business. If you were to forgive every one, you would come to ruin in three years."
"But to forgive, to say a kind, friendly word to any one, even a sinner, is something far above business, far above wealth."