I am horrid and capricious, I was fascinated by that operatic boat, I am a young lady⁠ ⁠… but you know I did think that you were dreadfully in love with me. Don’t despise the poor fool, and don’t laugh at the tear that dropped just now. I am awfully given to crying with self-pity. Come, that’s enough, that’s enough. I am no good for anything and you are no good for anything; it’s as bad for both of us, so let’s comfort ourselves with that. Anyway, it eases our vanity.”

“Dream and delirium,” cried Stavrogin, wringing his hands, and pacing about the room. “Liza, poor child, what have you done to yourself?”

“I’ve burnt myself in a candle, nothing more. Surely you are not crying, too? You should show less feeling and better breeding.⁠ ⁠…”

“Why, why did you come to me?”

“Don’t you understand what a ludicrous position you put yourself in in the eyes of the world by asking such questions?”