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Sayfa 425 / 1294

Yazar: Fyodor Dostoevsky

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"You wouldn't believe, you can't imagine, Polenka," she said,
walking about the room, "what a happy luxurious life we had in my
papa's house and how this drunkard has brought me, and will bring
you all, to ruin! Papa was a civil colonel and only a step from
being a governor; so that everyone who came to see him said, 'We
look upon you, Ivan Mihailovitch, as our governor!' When I...
when..." she coughed violently, "oh, cursed life," she cried,
clearing her throat and pressing her hands to her breast, "when
I... when at the last ball... at the marshal's...

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