Lavrétzky caught her hand.
"Akh, Lizavéta Mikhaílovna, believe me,"—he exclaimed:—"I have been sufficiently punished as it is. I have already atoned for everything, believe me."
"You cannot know that,"—said Liza in a low voice. "You have forgotten;—not very long ago,—when you were talking to me,—you were not willing to forgive her...."
The two walked silently down the alley.
"And how about your daughter?"—Liza suddenly inquired, and halted.
Lavrétzky started.
"Oh, do not worry yourself! I have already despatched letters to all the proper places. The future of my daughter, as you call ... as you say ... is assured. Do not disquiet yourself."
Liza smiled sadly.
"But you are right,"—went on Lavrétzky:—"what can I do with my freedom? Of what use is it to me?"
"When did you receive that newspaper?"—said Liza, making no reply to his question.