It might be that all her life she might never learn wisdom.

I do not know that I wished her to learn it.
"No," she continued.

"But you forgive me now?
Forgive me for all my mistakes, for thinking that I loved John when I did not and treating him so badly.

Ah! but how unhappy I was! I wished to be honourable and honest--I wished it passionately--and I seemed only to make mistakes.
And then because I was ashamed of myself I was angry with every one--at least it seemed that it was with every one, but it was really with myself." "I did you injustice," I said.

"And I did Alexei Petrovitch an injustice also.