You must forgive me if I think more of him than of you, Marie Ivanovna." "Yes," she said fiercely.

"It is John--John--John, you all think of.
But John would not have loved me if he knew me as I truly am.

And now, at last, I can be myself.

It does not matter to Alexei Petrovitch what I am." "But you have known him so short a time--and you have been so quick.
If you had waited...." "Waited!" she caught me up.

"Waited! How can one wait when one isn't allowed to wait?
It must be finished here, at once, and I'm not going to finish alone.