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"You don't understand!" cried Katerina Ivanovna angrily waving

her hand. "And why should they compensate me? Why, he was drunk

and threw himself under the horses! What earnings? He brought us

in nothing but misery. He drank everything away, the drunkard! He

robbed us to get drink, he wasted their lives and mine for drink!

And thank God he's dying! One less to keep!"

"You must forgive in the hour of death, that's a sin, madam, such

feelings are a great sin."

Katerina Ivanovna was busy with the dying man; she was giving him

water, wiping the blood and sweat from his head, setting his

pillow straight, and had only turned now and then for a moment to

address the priest. Now she flew at him almost in a frenzy.