Lavretsky smiled bitterly.
“Do you think so? At least, I am now free.”
Lisa gave a slight shudder.
“Stop, do not talk like that. Of what use is your freedom to you? You ought not to be thinking of that now, but of forgiveness.”
“I forgave her long ago,” Lavretsky interposed with a gesture of the hand.
“No, that is not it,” replied Lisa, flushing. “You did not understand me. You ought to be seeking to be forgiven.”
“To be forgiven by whom?”
“By whom? God. Who can forgive us, but God?”
Lavretsky seized her hand.
“Ah, Lisaveta Mihalovna, believe me,” he cried, “I have been punished enough as it is. I have expiated everything already, believe me.”