MÁSHA. Well, there isn't much good in her, if she's thrown you over.
MÁSHA. All right, all right! It's always you. She is an angel! What else!
FÉDYA. This--that you are a good, dear girlie--and that I love you, and if I live I shall ruin you.
MÁSHA. That's not your business. I know quite well what will ruin me.
FÉDYA [sighs] But above all, above all ... What use is my life? Don't I know that I am a lost good-for-nothing? I am a burden to myself and to everybody--as your father said. I'm worthless....
MÁSHA. What rubbish! I shall stick to you. I've stuck to you already, and there's an end of it! As to your leading a bad life, drinking and going on the spree--well, you're a living soul! Give it up, and have done with it!
FÉDYA. Yes, when I look at you I feel as if I could really do anything.
MÁSHA. And so you shall! Yes, you'll do it! [Sees the letter] What's that? You've written to them? What have you written?
FÉDYA. What have I written?... [Takes the letter and is about to tear it up] It's no longer wanted now.
MÁSHA [snatches the letter] You've said you would kill yourself? Yes? You did not mention the revolver--only said that you'd kill yourself?
MÁSHA. Give it me--give it, give it!... Have you read _What to Do_?
MÁSHA. It's a tiresome novel, but there's one very, very good thing in it. That what's his name?--Rakhmánov--goes and pretends he has drowned himself. And you--can you swim?
MÁSHA. That's all right. Let me have your clothes--everything, and your pocket-book too.
MÁSHA. Wait a bit, wait, wait! Let's go home; then you'll change your clothes.
MÁSHA. All right! You go to bathe, your clothes remain on the bank, in the pocket is your pocket-book and this letter.
MÁSHA. And then? Why, then we'll go off together and live gloriously.
IVÁN PETRÓVICH. There now! And the revolver? I'll take it.
KARÉNIN. He promised so definitely, that I am sure he will keep his word.
LISA. I am ashamed to say it, but I must confess that what I heard about that gipsy girl makes me feel quite free. Don't think it is jealousy; it isn't, but you know--it sets me free. I hardly know how to tell you....
KARÉNIN. You don't know how to tell me ... Why?
LISA [smiling] Never mind! Only let me explain what I feel. The chief thing that tormented me was, that I felt I loved two men; and that meant that I was an immoral woman.