The good man has no doubt let slip something on that subject also, though mother would deny it: 'I shall refuse,' says she.

On whom is she reckoning then?
Is she counting on what is left of her hundred and twenty roubles of pension when Afanasy Ivanovitch's debt is paid?
She knits woollen shawls and embroiders cuffs, ruining her old eyes.

And all her shawls don't add more than twenty roubles a year to her hundred and twenty, I know that.

So she is building all her hopes all the time on Mr.Luzhin's generosity; 'he will offer it of himself, he will press it on me.' You may wait a long time for that! That's how it always is with these Schilleresque noble hearts; till the last moment every goose is a swan with them, till the last moment, they hope for the best and will see nothing wrong, and although they have an inkling of the other side of the picture, yet they won't face the truth till they are forced to; the very thought of it makes them shiver; they thrust the truth away with both hands, until the man they deck out in false colours puts a fool's cap on them with his own hands.

I should like to know whether Mr.Luzhin has any orders of merit; I bet he has the Anna in his buttonhole and that he puts it on when he goes to dine with contractors or merchants.
He will be sure to have it for his wedding, too! Enough of him, confound him! "Well,...