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Rh : "How about my own life? The filth in which I grew up was also very bad. However, it did not stick to me; and there are probably thousands of women who have grown up in purity in families worse than mine. Is there anything strange in the fact that those whom a happy chance has brought out from such degradation are not ruined?"

She listened to the second confession, and was not surprised, because the girl who made it had kept intact all the noble peculiarities of a human being,—generosity, capability for genuine service, and softness of heart,—had even preserved a great part of her innocence.

"Nastasia Borísovna, I have heard such confessions as you want to make; and it was hard for both of us,—for her who spoke and for me who listened. I shall respect you not less, but rather more, than before, when now I know that you have endured a great deal; but I understand the whole story without listening. Let us not speak about it; there is no need for you to confess before me. I myself have spent many years in great sorrows; I am trying not to think about them, and I don't like others to speak about them; it's too hard."

"No, Viéra Pavlovna; I have a different feeling about it. I want to tell you what a good man he is; I want some one to know how grateful I am to him; and whom can I tell it to if not to you? What kind of a life I led, of course there is no need of speaking about that,—it was of the same stamp as that of all such poor creatures. I only want to tell you how I became acquainted with him. It is so pleasant for me to talk about him; and besides, I am going to live in his house, and you must know why I am going to leave the shop."

"If telling this story will give you any pleasure, Anastasia Borísovna, I will gladly listen. Let me get my work first."

"Yes; but it is impossible for me to work. How kind these girls have been, to let me have such work as agreed with my health. I shall be grateful to them all, to each one. Tell them, Viéra Pavlovna, that I asked you to thank them for me. I was walking on the Nevsky, Viéra Pavlovna; it was rather early when I went out. A student was walking along, and I accosted him. He did not reply, but crosses to the other side of the street. Then he sees that I am following him; I grasped him by the arm. 'No,' said I, 'I am