Running into the house Sophia Pietrovna stood for about five minutes motionless in her room, looking now at the window then at the writing table.... "You disgraceful woman," she scolded herself; "disgraceful!" In spite of herself she recollected every detail, hiding nothing, how all these days she had been against Ilyin's love-making, yet she was somehow drawn to meet him and explain; but besides this when he was lying at her feet she felt an extraordinary pleasure. She recalled everything, not sparing herself, and now, stifled with shame, she could have slapped her own face.
"Poor Andrey," she thought, trying, as she remembered her husband, to give her face the tenderest possible expression—"Varya, my poor darling child, does not know what a mother she has. Forgive me, my dears. I love y
