That's how I spend my nights!...

What's the use of talking of forgiveness! I have forgiven as it is!" A terrible hollow cough interrupted her words.

She put her handkerchief to her lips and showed it to the priest, pressing her other hand to her aching chest.

The handkerchief was covered with blood.

The priest bowed his head and said nothing.
Marmeladov was in the last agony; he did not take his eyes off the face of Katerina Ivanovna, who was bending over him again.