IX
'I was put in a very awkward position this evening through your doing,' I said the same evening to Fustov, on the way home with him. 'You told me that that girl—what's her name?—Susanna, was the daughter of Mr. Ratsch, but she's his stepdaughter.'
'Really! Did I tell you she was his daughter? But... isn't it all the same?' 'That Ratsch,' I went on.... 'O Alexander, how I detest him! Did you notice the peculiar sneer with which he spoke of Jews before her? Is she... a Jewess?' Fustov walked ahead, swinging his arms; it was cold, the snow was crisp, like salt, under our feet. 'Yes, I recollect, I did hear something of the sort,' he observed at last.... 'Her mother, I fancy, was of Jewish extraction.' 'Then Mr. Ratsch must have married a widow the first time?' 'Probably.' 'H'm!... And t
