She took out of her pocket and held out to Lavretsky the sheet of the newspaper folded up small.
"That is terrible!" she said.
Lavretsky made no reply.
"But perhaps it is not true, though," added Lisa.
"That is why I asked you not to speak of it to any one." Lisa walked on a little.
"Tell me," she began: "you are not grieved?
not at all ?" "I do not know myself what I feel," replied Lavretsky.
"But you loved her once ?" "Yes." "Very much ?" "Yes." "So you are not grieved at her death ?" "She was dead to me long ago." "It is sinful to say that.

Do not be angry with me.

You call me your friend: a friend may say everything.

To me it is really terrible....
Yesterday there was an evil look in your face....

Do you remember not long ago how you abused her, and she, perhaps, at that very time was dead?
It is terrible.