it's a joy to wish it

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fore her. “Vous
etes noble comme une marquise yilai:
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remember that sewing machine I gave her[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]! I—I am a wretch. OhI've been
dishonest all my life. . . .”
“Calm yourself [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!” Sofya Matveyevna implored him.
“It was all lies that I told you this evening—to glorify myselfto make it
splendidfrom pure wantonness—allallevery wordohI am a wretchI
am a wretch [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!”
The first attack was succeeded in this way by a second—an attack of
hysterical remorse. I have mentioned these attacks already when I
described his letters to Varvara Petrovna. He suddenly recalled Lise and
their meeting the previous morning. “It was so awfuland there must
have been some disaster and I didn't askdidn't find out! I thought only
of myself. Ohwhat's the matter with her? Do you know what's the matter
with her?” he besought Sofya Matveyevna.
Then he swore that “he would never change” that he would go back to
her (that isVarvara Petrovna). “We” (that ishe and Sofya Matveyevna)
“will go to her steps every day when she is getting into her carriage for
her morning driveand we will watch her in secret. . . . OhI wish her to
smite me on the other cheek; it's a joy to wish it yilai:
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Ruth revised that to! I shall turn her my other
cheekcomme dans votre livre! Only now for the first time I understand
what is meant by . tur