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A
sham
!
with
what
object
?
said
Varenka
gently
.
Oh
,
it
s
so
idiotic
!
so
hateful
!
There
was
no
need
whatever
for
me
.
.
.
.
Nothing
but
sham
!
she
said
,
opening
and
shutting
the
parasol
.
But
with
what
object
?
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To
seem
better
to
people
,
to
myself
,
to
God
;
to
deceive
everyone
.
No
!
now
I
won
t
descend
to
that
.
I
ll
be
bad
;
but
anyway
not
a
liar
,
a
cheat
.
But
who
is
a
cheat
?
said
Varenka
reproachfully
.
You
speak
as
if
.
.
.
.
But
Kitty
was
in
one
of
her
gusts
of
fury
,
and
she
would
not
let
her
finish
.
I
don
t
talk
about
you
,
not
about
you
at
all
.
You
re
perfection
.
Yes
,
yes
,
I
know
you
re
all
perfection
;
but
what
am
I
to
do
if
I
m
bad
?
This
would
never
have
been
if
I
weren
t
bad
.
So
let
me
be
what
I
am
.
I
won
t
be
a
sham
.
What
have
I
to
do
with
Anna
Pavlovna
?
Let
them
go
their
way
,
and
me
go
mine
.
I
can
t
be
different
.
.
.
.
And
yet
it
s
not
that
,
it
s
not
that
.
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What
is
not
that
?
asked
Varenka
in
bewilderment
.
Everything
.
I
can
t
act
except
from
the
heart
,
and
you
act
from
principle
.
I
liked
you
simply
,
but
you
most
likely
only
wanted
to
save
me
,
to
improve
me
.