‘creature’!”
“Shameful!” broke from Father Iosif.
“Shameful and disgraceful!” Kalganov, flushing crimson, cried in a boyish voice, trembling with emotion. He had been silent till that moment.
“Why is such a man alive?” Dmitri, beside himself with rage, growled in a hollow voice, hunching up his shoulders till he looked almost deformed.
“Tell me, can he be allowed to go on defiling the earth?”
He looked round at everyone and pointed at the old man. He spoke evenly and deliberately.
“Listen, listen, monks, to the parricide!” cried Fyodor Pavlovitch, rushing up to Father Iosif. “That’s the answer to your ‘shameful!’ What is shameful? That ‘creature,’ that ‘woman of loose behavior’ is perhaps holier than you are yourselves, you monks who are seeking salvation! She fell perhaps in her youth, ruined by her environment. But she loved much, and Christ himself forgave the woman ‘who loved much.’ ”
“It was not