“She’s not at all a vile creature,” said Foma, morosely. “And you don’t know anything about her. You are all lying!”
“Oh, I beg your pardon!”
“No. See here, Luba,” said Foma, softly, in a beseeching tone, “don’t speak ill of her in my presence. It isn’t necessary. I know everything. By God! She told me everything herself.”
“Herself!” exclaimed Luba, in astonishment. “What a strange woman she is! What did she tell you?”
“That she is guilty,” Foma ejaculated with difficulty, with a wry smile.
“Is that all?” There was a ring of disappointment in the girl’s question; Foma heard it and asked hopefully:
“Isn’t that enough?”
“What will you do now?”
“That’s just what I am thinking about.”
“Do you love her very much?”