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“
You
were
walking
in
the
streets
?
”
“
Yes
,
”
Sonia
whispered
abruptly
,
again
overcome
with
confusion
and
looking
down
.
“
Katerina
Ivanovna
used
to
beat
you
,
I
dare
say
?
”
“
Oh
no
,
what
are
you
saying
?
No
!
”
Sonia
looked
at
him
almost
with
dismay
.
“
You
love
her
,
then
?
”
“
Love
her
?
Of
course
!
”
said
Sonia
with
plaintive
emphasis
,
and
she
clasped
her
hands
in
distress
.
“
Ah
,
you
don
’
t
.
.
.
.
If
you
only
knew
!
You
see
,
she
is
quite
like
a
child
.
.
.
.
Her
mind
is
quite
unhinged
,
you
see
.
.
.
from
sorrow
.
And
how
clever
she
used
to
be
.
.
.
how
generous
.
.
.
how
kind
!
Ah
,
you
don
’
t
understand
,
you
don
’
t
understand
!
”
Sonia
said
this
as
though
in
despair
,
wringing
her
hands
in
excitement
and
distress
.
Her
pale
cheeks
flushed
,
there
was
a
look
of
anguish
in
her
eyes
.
It
was
clear
that
she
was
stirred
to
the
very
depths
,
that
she
was
longing
to
speak
,
to
champion
,
to
express
something
.
A
sort
of
insatiable
compassion
,
if
one
may
so
express
it
,
was
reflected
in
every
feature
of
her
face
.
“
Beat
me
!
how
can
you
?
Good
heavens
,
beat
me
!
And
if
she
did
beat
me
,
what
then
?
What
of
it
?
You
know
nothing
,
nothing
about
it
.
.
.
.
She
is
so
unhappy
.
.
.
ah
,
how
unhappy
!
And
ill
.
.
.
.
She
is
seeking
righteousness
,
she
is
pure
.
She
has
such
faith
that
there
must
be
righteousness
everywhere
and
she
expects
it
.
.
.
.
And
if
you
were
to
torture
her
,
she
wouldn
’
t
do
wrong
.
She
doesn
’
t
see
that
it
’
s
impossible
for
people
to
be
righteous
and
she
is
angry
at
it
.
Like
a
child
,
like
a
child
.
She
is
good
!
”
“
And
what
will
happen
to
you
?
”
